


Right Connections

by bitsori



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, Insomniac Lee Minho | Lee Know, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Alternating, Romantic Comedy, Strangers to Lovers, sort of???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-18 07:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17576357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitsori/pseuds/bitsori
Summary: ‘Wow, he must lead a very romantic life.’Lee Minho is a wedding planner who has heard these words uttered about him one too many times; the truth is that he doesn’t believe in marriage, nor does he think much about love. Enter: Han Jisung. ( AU )





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> [ ☆ ] This idea was supposed to be a simple one-shot, but when I began writing, I realised there was too much going on at once, so I decided to take my time and let it unfold more naturally... by turning it into a chaptered fic. I haven't really written anything chaptered ([WYHINE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15977558) was chaptered I guess, but that was four chapters that I posted one after another within the span of a week, LMAO, so does that really count...), and I wasn't sure if I was up for the commitment but... here it is, so let's hope I am!
> 
> [ ☆ ] As usual, thank you M & R, my focus group of two. ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] The Minsung meet-cute was lowkey inspired by [a local film](https://www.imdb.com/title/tt8485526/), just in case anyone reading this thinks it's familiar. The actual fic plot, however, isn't.

  
  
  


“Hey, Sir—!”

The blonde male flashes Minho a big, bright smile after he approaches. Minho looks up, confused, but he’s quick to zero in on the nameplate pinned on the stranger’s brown barista apron - Han Jisung, it says. _Han Jisung,_ Minho repeats in his head.

He recognizes him from Soul Cup, the cafe he had just exited, the same cafe that he’s been frequenting every day, at around midnight, for the last few months, ever since he’d moved into his new apartment, located on the 10th floor of the building just across the street.

“Yes?” He asks, straightening up to his full height when he decides to humor the intrusion.

He notes with amusement how the male - _Han Jisung,_ he reminds himself, the name frolicking around his brain now - does the same; it doesn’t help him much as Minho still towers over him by an inch or so. It’s also at this point that Minho instinctively pats down his pockets, wondering if he’s left something inside the store - his wallet, maybe, or even his phone, but he quickly feels them where they should be so he relaxes and waits for what the barista has to say.

“Well,” Han Jisung begins, and he looks up, eyes sparkling when they meet Minho’s eyes. “I love you,” he suddenly says, and Minho ends up having to do a double take.

“Wait, what—?”

Han Jisung breaks out into a huge grin, and Minho can’t help but notice how cute his two, crooked front teeth are. Still, he has no time to dwell on that observation, too confused by the sudden proclamation this Han Jisung has just made.

He waits for an explanation, or a typical ‘kidding!’ but Han Jisung just laughs, loud and obnoxious, giving Minho a playful salute before he turns on his heels and runs back into the cafe.

“What…” Minho blinks rapidly, curious but mostly confused as he’s left standing on the sidewalk by himself. His eyes follow Jisung inside the cafe, and through the glass windows he sees him start conversing animatedly with two of his co-workers.

He has half a mind to follow him back in and ask for answers, but before he can move, he feels his phone start to buzz in his pocket.

“Hello?” He answers, without even checking the caller ID; he’s already confident about the identity of the person on the other end of the line anyway. “Seungmin?”

“Hyung.” Sure enough, it’s his business partner and long time friend’s familiar drawl that answers him. “You’re still outside, aren’t you?”

Minho tuts into the phone, “If you already know, then why are you asking?”

Just as he expects, Seungmin lets out a heavy sigh in response. “We have an early morning tomorrow, you should at least _try_ to get an appropriate amount of sleep.”

Minho hums in response; he knows Seungmin is just worried, but it’s not as if sleepless nights are a personal choice for him. “I’ll be fine,” he assures his friend. “You know I function well enough on an hour or two of sleep.”

“Still,” Seungmin insists. “Please try.”

Minho shakes his head even though his friend can’t see him through the phone line. “I’ll try,” he says. “But why are _you_ awake?” He returns, giving his watch a quick glance before continuing, “We have to resume prep for the Yoon-Im wedding at 4 in the morning which is barely over three hours from now.”

“I was just getting into bed,” Seungmin explains. “I needed to make sure you were, too.”

“I’m fine,” Minho assures him. “I’m walking to my apartment now, if it pleases you to hear.” To  be fair, he’s easily crossed the road since picking the call up - not exactly safe or recommended, but it’s one in the morning, and there are very few cars milling around.

“It doesn’t really, but I guess it’s better than you staying out all night.” Seungmin’s tone is sharp, but resigned. Even he knows that there isn’t much he can do about Minho’s sleeping habits, but Minho appreciates that his best friend worries anyway.

“I won’t - not when we have a job to do tomorrow,” he promises. “Anyway, I’m inside my building now. I’ll see you in a few hours, Seungmin.”

“Okay, hyung,” Seungmin acquiesces. “Go to sleep immediately! Good night, hyung.”

Minho can only hum in response; he can’t really make any promises about sleep and Seungmin knew as much.

  
  


 

“Thank God you’re here,” Seungmin grumbles, as soon as he spots Minho stroll into the Shilla Seoul’s outdoor garden, a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose despite the sun not even really up yet, and two tall cups of coffee in each hand.

“Sorry,” he apologises as he hands Seungmin his coffee. “There were no other customers at the cafe, but the service was slow anyway considering the sun isn’t even up yet.”

The truth is that he’d lingered a bit when he got the coffee, hoping, _wondering_ if Han Jisung, Barista and Impromptu Confesser Extraordinaire,  was still working his shift. But he wasn’t - only the freckled male with the funny sounding accent was there ( _Felix,_ his nametag had read), taking his time as he prepared two venti cups of coffee for Minho. He considered asking about Jisung, but he knew he didn’t really have time that morning.

“It’s okay,” Seungmin tells him, more relaxed now that he’s gotten his first shot of caffeine for the day. “It’s barely half past four anyway, you made it in time - and we already took care of most everything last night,” he adds, gesturing around him to mean the entire set-up for the Yoon-Im garden wedding set to happen in a little over an hour. “Only a fucking bridezilla would demand to be wed at six in the morning anyway.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes, and Minho can’t help but laugh. “It’s so their union will be showered with the _most_ blessings, mind you,” Minho tells him, chuckling as he halfway mocks the sentiment that the bride, Im Nayeon, had shared with them when she asked them to plan this early morning wedding.

“God, that doesn’t even make sense,” Seungmin sighs. “But speaking of her, I should go and check in on her - Chaeyoung-noona arrived shortly before you did, and I already sent her up to the bride’s room to do her make-up.”

Minho nods and waves him off. “I’ll supervise here,” he tells Seungmin, his eyes already doing a quiet sweep of the area, noting the handful members of their staff who are already there, performing their job in installing flower arrangements and making sure they look fresh by spraying them with water mist.

Minho and Seungmin have been friends since he was eight, and Seungmin was six, and Minho had unceremoniously approached the younger and declared them be so. “You live in the house above ours,” eight-year-old Minho had said, simple and straightforward. “I think that means we’re friends.”

The two of them had grown up neighbors in one of the high-rise residential buildings at the Gaepo neighborhood in Seoul’s wealthy Gangnam district. Despite being two years apart, they had attended all the same private schools and after-school tutor centers for most of their formative years, so they’d ended up attached at the hip. As early as Seungmin’s nineteenth birthday, after he had come home from two years of study abroad, and just as Minho’s own trust fund had kicked in, they’d started talking about one day running a small business together. Wedding planning, of course, was not their first idea. And it wasn’t on the list of possible ideas at all, until Seungmin’s older sister, Seunghee, got engaged, and they’d ended up with their first accidental client.

Seunghee hadn’t just wanted any typical Korean ceremony at a wedding hall or a hotel - she wanted a destination wedding in Jeju, and her family had the money to make it happen. Seungmin, somehow, had gotten tasked with the burden of ‘helping’ plan it - except eventually responsibility over the entire thing had befallen him. Enter: Lee Minho, best friend and natural partner-in-crime.

It turns out that Seungmin’s attention to detail and natural business acumen, mixed with Minho’s inherent people skills and creativity really _did_ make a great combination when it came to running a business, because now, almost three years later, said business is actually _thriving._ It helps that they have all the right connections, of course - their peers who all also grew up in affluent families are now all at the right age to be married, and all of them had enough money to waste on unique and lavish weddings that Cherry Cat Connections specialises in.

When Minho’s phone rings in his hand, he remembers to fix his headset before answering the call. “Everything good with the bride?”

He hears the sound of a door gently closing before he hears the sound of Seungmin sighing. “What do you think?”

Minho can only laugh. “I’m assuming she’s being lovely as always?” He answers, teasing. Im Nayeon is a very beautiful bride, but they both know she’s been quite difficult throughout the last few months of wedding planning.

“Oh, she sure is!” Seungmin says through, Minho assumes from his tone, gritted teeth. “Ugh,” he groans, before lowering his voice to make sure that only Minho, through the phone line, can hear him. “Apparently she hates the makeup color palette now— and it’s ridiculous because _she_ chose the goddamn palette herself!”

Minho snorts; Seungmin keeps angry whispering over the phone line and he can imagine his best friend pacing up and down the hotel corridor while ranting, just outside the bride’s room.

“Luckily, Chaeyoung-noona had the foresight to bring other color palettes with her,” Seungmin sighs. “I’m just really glad we’re done with her after today.”

“And we get a big fat check deposited into our account, don’t forget,” Minho reminds, as if to somehow ease Seungmin’s obvious annoyance. “So we win.”

“So we win,” Seungmin echoes, clearly not convinced at all.

  
  


 

The wedding ends without a hitch, of course - Minho never doubted the success of the event. Their business has a spotless record after all, but Seungmin’s temper was a bit touch and go for a while, and he’d needed to calm his friend down a few times with little things - at least twice with spearmint flavored gum, and once with a handy stress ball that Minho tends to keep on his person precisely because overbearing brides never fail to rile Seungmin up.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” Once the festivities are over and done with, Nayeon thanks them, bright eyes and wide smile, like she’s the sweetest person on the planet. Like she hasn’t been giving them hell the last few months with her intricate demands that kept changing almost by the day. (Really though, despite Minho appearing to be the calm one next to Seungmin, there was one time when even _he_ had almost snapped, when _he_ had almost told Nayeon to go to the nearest wedding hall and have _their_ staff prepare her ridiculous ceremony instead; luckily, Minho has always been the type to calm down just as quickly as he gets worked up.)

The smile that Seungmin gives her is pretty forced, and Minho has to bite the inside of his cheek so hard when Nayeon happily reaches around his best friend for an excited hug.

“Thank you!” She repeats perkily, when she moves to give Minho a hug as well. “It was all perfect!”

“You’re welcome,” Minho answers politely. “Congratulations on your marriage, again.”

It’s not until they’re both safely tucked away in Minho’s car that they burst into a chorus of laughter.

“She’s so unbearable!” Seungmin exclaims, frustration and disbelief practically shaking off his entire being as he buckles himself into the passenger seat. “What does Dowoon-ssi even see in her?! He seems like such a nice and agreeable guy, too!”

“Her drive, maybe?” Minho shrugs, turning the key in the ignition, and carefully pulling out of his parking spot. “Ambition? Pretty face?” He laughs. “Maybe she’s sweet when it’s just the two of them— she seems like the type. I’m sure there’s _something_ that makes him love her. Who knows, maybe they’ll beat all odds and grow old and grey together.”

Seungmin scoffs and gives Minho a pointed look. “You really don’t believe that, do you?”

Minho just laughs some more; his friend’s skepticism at his response is unsurprising considering Minho is usually the one more pessimistic about love and marriage. Seungmin is the one in this business for the romance, while Minho is in it for the money. If it was any other time, any other couple, Seungmin would more likely be the one giving them the benefit of the doubt, while Minho ruthlessly predicts the over-under of the duration of their marriage. (He secretly has the Yoon-Im couple down for roughly 2 years and 3 months, but he isn't about to tell a harangued Seungmin that.)

“Look,” he shrugs, because someone has to be The Calm One, “all I know is that if Nayeon-ssi wasn’t a ‘my way’ type of person, then we wouldn’t have landed this account.”

Im Nayeon was the one and only daughter of a rich, but practical businessman had originally advised his daughter to simply avail a package from one of the many wedding halls littered around Seoul. But of course, she, much like most of the clients that come Minho and Seungmin’s way, wanted something ‘special and unique.’

“Fair enough,” Seungmin mumbles. “Fuck, I’m so tired though, I feel like I can sleep all day tomorrow.”

Minho hums; he wishes he can say the same. He feels just as tired, but he can’t really remember the last time he even had more than two or three hours of consecutive sleep.

“You still up for early evening cocktails with Woojin-hyung?” Minho asks, giving his phone a quick glance as he stops for a red light - there's a new message from Woojin himself, inquiring if they’re already on their way. “Or should I drop you off at your place, first? I’m sure hyung would understand if I tell him you’ve barely had enough sleep.”

Drinks with Woojin, another close friend of theirs that they met during Minho's university days, who owns a small but successful bar in Itaewon, has been a weekly arrangement for going on three years already, ever since Woojin had opened his business.

“No, no way—” Seungmin immediately shakes his head. “I could use a few cocktails to unwind.”

  
  


 

Two hours and several rounds of drinks later, Seungmin is nearing tipsy while Woojin, more than anything, is drunk from all the _laughter_ he’s had thanks to Seungmin’s tirade against, once again, Nayeon the Bride.

“Are you not tired of this yet?” Minho asks pointedly - the question aimed at both his friends. Seungmin, because he’s been on the same rant for going on an entire month now, and Woojin because he’s been on _the end_ of the same rant for the same amount of time and he _still_ keeps laughing at the same complaints that Seungmin has.

“I am!” Seungmin declares, his voice louder than usual due to his current state. “I’m glad to be done with that account,” he continues, right before letting out a heavy, but relieved sigh. He leans against Woojin who is seated beside him, and Minho simply clicks his tongue in feigned disapproval.

“Well, I’m tired of this - like you said we’re done with her, so move on.” His words are straightforward, and perhaps others would consider them a bit rude; not to mention Seungmin’s constant complaints only really got worse after his boyfriend went on a prolonged business trip, so Minho should probably be more mindful and patient, but this is just how Minho is, and his friends know it. In some ways, he thinks they even appreciate it. “Anyway,” he continues, eyebrow arching as Seungmin reaches for his phone so he can check something with it - he’s sure it’s Seungmin’s boyfriend messaging him with the usual sap. One time Minho had the unfortunate luck of catching a glimpse of one of their exchanges and he’d almost _literally_ gagged at how soft and soppy the two of them were.

“Isn’t your man coming home the day after tomorrow?” He asks now; this is his way of trying to get Seungmin to focus on more positive things. “So you can move on from being a sad, irritable mess, to the usual happy, positive man I know and love.”

“Minho,” Woojin’s tone is lightly scolding, and the look he’s given is somewhat pointed. “Give our Seungmin a break,” and then he breaks out into a teasing grin as he coos and ruffles Seungmin’s hair, “He misses his man!”

Seungmin groans and tries to slap Woojin’s hand away, mumbling something barely audible - he’s still focused on his phone anyway, which makes both Woojin and Minho chuckle in amusement.

“Anyway—” Woojin turns to Minho. “Talking about switching topics, are you trying to say that you have something more amusing than Seungmin’s poorly redirected love woes?”

“I do,” Minho answers, calm and nonchalant because under the guise of needing to drive home, he’s only really had one bottle of Woojin’s most expensive flavored beer. (The truth is that Minho’s always been good at navigating his way through social situations, and there’s a reason why none of his friends have embarrassing drunk Minho stories to tell.)

“You do?” Seungmin quickly looks up from his phone, surprised etched all over his face.

“So this kid just went and confessed his love to me last night,” he relays, keeping his tone even because he’s expecting big reactions from his friends. And sure enough,

“Kid?!” Woojin asks, right at the exact moment that Seungmin goes, “Love?!”

Minho cracks up at their incredulous reactions, which has Seungmin throwing a crumpled piece of table napkin at him. “Stop that,” he snorts, quickly throwing the napkin back. “And he wasn’t an actual _kid,”_ he clarifies with a glance at Woojin. “He just looks… young. Younger than us by a couple of years, maybe.” He shrugs, remembering the boy’s youthful looking full cheeks, and now he finds himself hoping that he isn’t actually younger than Minho assumes him to be.

“Love?” Seungmin repeats, still slurring a bit, but he has more focus in his eyes now.

“Look, it’s not my fault I’m irresistible,” he deadpans; the only tell that he’s joking is the way the right corner of his lips curl up.

Woojin groans. “Are you going to go ahead with this story, or should I call for your tab?”

“Oh fuck off, hyung, you want to hear the story, I know you do,” Minho answers, laughing now. “But the truth is, that’s it. That’s the story.”

 _“What?”_ Seungmin gives him an annoyed look. “I know I’m a bit drunk—”

“And I really should take you home soon,” Minho agrees with a nod, before letting Seungmin continue.

“—but your story doesn’t make sense,” Seungmin finishes. “Also— this happened last night? And you’re only mentioning it now? Suspicious, hyung.”

Minho laughs. “Are you doubting my story?! What reason do I have to make this up? Nonsense!”

Seungmin scoffs, and even before he speaks Minho already knows what's coming. "Right, like there was no sense, no reason for you to tell me that if I ate sunflower seeds, then sunflowers will grow in my stomach."

Minho laughs even harder, while Woojin just lets out an exasperated sigh - this is not the first time he’s been witness to a similar argument between Minho and Seungmin.

“I was ten!” Minho points out, still laughing. “Your naivete was not my fault!”

“That’s not the point here, hyung,” Seungmin interjects. “The point is that you don’t always need a reason to make things up.”

“Messing with you as kids is not the same as messing with you as adults!” Minho argues.

“Yeah, at this age it just makes you an asshole,” Seungmin huffs; there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips though, a sign that this banter is still just that - playful banter between friends who knew exactly how to push each other’s buttons.

“Well whatever,” Minho shrugs, picking up his half-empty glass of water and drinking the rest of it. “You know I’m not _actually_ an asshole when it counts and that’s why you love me— plus, the guy wasn’t making sense either anyway, nothing I can do about that. He’s a barista at that coffee shop across the street from me - so you see, the only plausible explanation for this sudden declaration of love is that I really _am_ irresistible.”

“Maybe it’s a bet,” Woojin suggests jokingly.

“Or maybe I really am just _that_ alluring,” Minho insists impishly.

“Or maybe you’re right,” Seungmin interrupts, rolling his eyes, but he’s laughing now, too. “And you should take me home before I throw up on you because you keep making me want to hurl.”

  
  


 

Minho manages to drop Seungmin off by ten that evening - a little early for them when they drink with Woojin, really, but then they also started the day at an unholy hour. By half past ten, Minho is pulling up in his building’s parking lot, and by eleven he’s in bed, tossing and turning in yet another futile attempt at sleep.

The boy - _Han Jisung,_ he reminds himself, because he _does_ remember his name despite not  having mentioned it to his friends - has been on his mind ever since he’d told Woojin and Seungmin about the unexpected confession. It was strange and unsolicited; Minho is usually friendly and talkative even to strangers, but this is a side of him that he’s never had the opportunity to show any of the workers at the cafe, considering he’s only ever there during the quiet lull of the midnight shift, or the crowded rush of the morning shift.

It would be a lie to say that Minho didn’t find Han Jisung cute, but more than that he was kind of intrigued; maybe any other person would be creeped out - who the fuck says _I love you_ to strangers at one in the morning? But Minho has always felt an affinity to weird things and weird people and maybe this is why the strange action, coming from a strange person intrigued him more than anything else.

And so, maybe this is also why, at quarter to midnight, he finds himself out of bed - out of his apartment, even, and instead walking into Soul Cup once again.

  
  


 

_tbc._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] IDK what my posting schedule will be, but I'll try to update at least once or twice a week. I don't want to take too long in writing this, anyway. ;;
> 
> [ ☆ ] As usual, any and all forms of feedback is greatly appreciated! [Twitter](http://twitter.com/rainsoundsmp3) | [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/yiminho).


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisung entertains a handsome customer, and Minho finds out what that 'I Love You' business was all about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] I got this update done sooner than I expected to, so I posted it instead of waiting it out like I originally planned to, lmao. I love writing Jisung. ):

  
  
  
  


Jisung thinks he hears the faint sound of the wind bells chiming, a sign that a customer has just walked into the cafe. He’s in the middle of dozing off, though, so his subconscious files it as a dream, _maybe,_ at least until,

“Jisung—!” Jeongin hisses at him, coupled with a hard jab to his side, causing Jisung to jerk into complete wakefulness. “Jisung-hyung,” Jeongin continues, “it’s him again! He’s here!”

“Who— what— huh?” He automatically turns his head towards the direction of the door, his eyes growing wide with shock when he immediately recognises the customer. “Oh, shit—!” Instinctively, he turns so that his back is facing the cafe floor area. “I need to, uh, pee—” He shoves Jeongin towards the front of the register, “You take care of his order.”

Jeongin, of course, the little devil, is laughing. “You _knew_ he was a regular, you should’ve known you would have to face him again, sooner or later.” And then, right before Jisung can escape into the back room, Jeongin pulls him back, and forcibly turns him around to face the counter.

And there he is, their collective favorite customer, _Lee Know._ At least, that’s his coffee shop name - Jisung, Jeongin and Felix have all agreed that it’s a ridiculous name that no self-respecting Korean parent would have given their child.

“Hello—” the man greets, a subdued but clearly amused smile decorating his lips. Jisung can only imagine that the amusement is due to his own flustered state.

_Fuck,_ he thinks. “It was a bet!” He blurts out loud, causing both Jeongin _and_ Felix to crack up loudly from behind him. _Shit,_ he thinks. Jeongin, he understands - _expects,_ even. Felix, on the other hand… he can’t believe his main man, Felix, would do him dirty like this.

In front of him, one Mr. Lee Know is blinking in obvious confusion. It’s probably not the right time to, but Jisung can’t help but notice how long and thick and _pretty_ his lashes are. _Goddamnit,_ he thinks, because in general, this man is frustratingly _beautiful._

“It was a bet,” he repeats, more slowly this time and after one deep breath. He might not have meant to say those words aloud, but he did, so he might as well stand by them and pretend that he isn’t flustered at all. _Fuck,_ he thinks again as he stares at the customer’s undeniable beauty, _good looking people are annoying._

“A bet?” Lee Know repeats, eyes blinking slowly a few more times, as if letting the information settle. And then he laughs out loud, the sound hearty, and echoing throughout the near empty coffee shop. “So my friend was right, then.”

Jisung feels a blush creep up his cheeks at the thought of Lee Know telling his friends about his embarrassing antics; not that he should care because it’s not as if he actually _is_ in love with him. “Hmm,” he hums, swallowing and shooting a sideways glare at Jeongin who was tittering as he pretended to rearrange the pastries on display. Felix, at least, has moved on to actually doing his job and clearing a newly vacated table. “What tea will it be tonight, sir?” He asks, trying to switch topics; Lee Know is always ordering different flavors tea every night, and Jisung is pretty sure he’s had each offering they have listed on the menu, daily specials included, at least once.

“Who says I’m having tea?” The customer asks, an amused smirk drawn on his lips. “A regular flat white for me tonight, please.” He pauses, glancing at the pastry display. “And an apple danish, please.”

“Sir, at this hour?” Jisung clarifies, confused and surprised at the man’s sudden change in habit. “Our flat white is pretty strong.”

“I’m not in a hurry to sleep tonight,” Lee Know answers, his gaze meeting Jisung’s in such a direct manner that Jisung feels his heart skip a beat.

  
  
  


 

“Here’s your order, sir,” Jisung says, setting Lee Know’s pastry and coffee down on the table. He can feel Lee Know’s eyes watching him, making him feel self-conscious.

“Thank you,” Lee Know answers with a small nod of acknowledgment.

Jisung howevers for a couple seconds more, only briefly glancing over his shoulder towards Jeongin and Felix who were both watching him, waiting for him to make his next move. _Oh, well,_ he thinks. He’s already made a fool of himself in front of this particular customer before, and it’s not as if Jisung can embarrass himself more after an impromptu _I love you._

“So,” he begins, catching Lee Know’s attention again. He pauses, waiting to see if the other man will say anything, but he doesn’t. Instead, he keeps his eyes on Jisung, _waiting._ “Okay, so,” he repeats, and this time, he freely make himself comfortable by taking the cushy seat across Lee Know’s.

The bold action has the man across him arching an eyebrow, and deep inside, Jisung is actually _very_ nervous, but he puffs his chest out anyway and puts on as much false bluster as he can. “So,” he repeats _yet again,_ and this time, Lee Know laughs.

“Yes, so. We’ve been through _so,”_ he says, his tone teasing. “So do go on.”

“Okay, so—” Jisung can’t help but repeat the words again anyway, and as a result is met with laughter from Lee Know. He ducks his head sheepishly, but he finally continues properly. “My friends and I were wondering what you do for a living?”

“Excuse me?” Whatever it is that Lee Know was expecting, obviously this wasn’t it, and the mild surprise that colors his features makes Jisung feel strangely triumphant.

“Yeah,” Jisung nods, continuing more confidently now. “Felix over there is betting you’re a doctor, and that you’re on call or whatever, hence the late nights—” At this, Lee Know tilts his head, perplexed, and Jisung just laughs and shrugs at once. “Yeah, that’s just his logic. And Jeongin— that’s him, the pale kid,” he explains, as Lee Know turns to glance at his two friends and co-workers who were presently huddled together behind the counter, watching their exchange. Both of them are quick to avert their eyes, and pretend to be preoccupied with other things as soon as Lee Know looks their way. Jisung snorts because he thinks they look like fools. “Anyway, he thinks you must be an idol from a small company, who just hasn’t made it big—” At this, Lee Know laughs yet again, and it makes Jisung smile because he thinks he likes it a lot, the childish, happy sound of his laughter. “Wait, wait, is he right?!” He leans forward, curious. The truth is, deep inside, he had been thinking that Jeongin could be right - the man is too good looking _not_ to be a celebrity, after all. _“Are_ you an idol? Actor? Model?” Anything in that field of work would entitle Jeongin to the money they pulled together for this question - a loss for Jisung, but he gains bragging rights anyway. _I have a celebrity regular,_ he can tell Changbin, his roommate, later. _I confessed to him once,_ he can tell people when Lee Know makes it big, maybe.

“No—” Lee Know keeps laughing as he shakes his head. “I don’t think I’d have the time to be here as often as I am if I was?”

“Well what _do_ you do then?” Jisung asks, sounding a lot more demanding than he means to be. Luckily, Lee Know is unfazed.

“I run a small business with—” he starts to explain.

“Ha!” Before Lee Know can go any further, Jisung is already pumping his fists in the other and jumping to his feet. “Oops, wait—” His hands drop to his sides, and he looks down at Lee Know. “That would mean you can be considered a business man, right?”

“Yes?” Lee Know is _still_ somehow looking at him with amusement and curiosity, instead of the normal weirded-out-perhaps-even-disgusted looks that Jisung knows for sure anyone else would have given him already. He’d try and dissect what this means, but for now, he’s way too excited.

“Okay, hell yeah!” He grins widely and waves his hands at Jeongin and Felix. “Pay up losers! He says he runs a business! I win!”

“Pay up, losers?” Lee Know echoes, head tilted and looking thoroughly entertained. “You win?”

“A-ah—” The initial excitement already having passed, Jisung starts to feel a bit sheepish. “Yeah, well.” He clears his throat and once again manages to gather enough control and confidence to appear indifferent. “We had another bet,” he explains, plopping down on the cushy seat once more.

“You love your bets, huh?”

“Uh—” Jisung starts to fiddle with the pockets of his apron; he wonders if this is a good time to bolt with the excuse of needing to get back to work, but really, they have no other customers and he kinda likes that Lee Know appears to be amused by him more than anything else. “I like _money,”_ he finds himself answering with a loud laugh.

“Touché,” Lee Know answers with a click of his tongue. “So how much have you won betting on me?”

“Including last night?”

“Including last night.”

Jisung pauses, and does quick computations in his head. “Around 25,000 KRW,” he declares proudly. Lee Know actually looks quite impressed, which just makes Jisung smile even wider.

“So, you’re a sneaky hustler, huh?” Lee Know says, and Jisung wonders if that’s meant to be an insult somehow; it sounds like high praise coming from Lee Know though, so he grins and nods, looking even prouder. “So how did that work?”

“How’d what work?” Jisung’s smile momentarily falters as he tries to understand the question.

Lee Know laughs, clearly charmed by his expression. “The I love you. You do that to every other customer to earn money from your friends?”

“Oh.” Jisung snorts. “No— It’s just… it was just you.”

“So I’m special, then?”

“That’s not what I said!” Jisung isn’t sure why he gets a little too defensive over the assumption. “You’re always here, almost every night, drinking tea - but you’re always by yourself, usually reading a book in this corner,” Jisung starts, half mumbling. “And I’m sure you _know_ you’re good looking—” He glares when Lee Know chuckles at that, but he continues anyway, “—so yeah, we kind of talk about you a lot. We don’t really have much else to do during this shift, after all. The bet was whoever manages to ‘confess’ to you gets the 15000 KRW pot we all contributed to.”

“So you haven’t placed bets on other customers?”

“No.”

“Sounds like I’m still special then,” Lee Know declares, prodding, teasing, _challenging._  

“Are you always this full of yourself, Lee Know-ssi?”

“Minho.”

“Excuse me?” Jisung stares at him, perplexed.

“Minho,” the other male repeats, his eyes crinkling at the corners as if he’s about to laugh again. “Lee Minho. That’s my actual name.”

“Oh.” Jisung stares at him. _“Oh,”_ he repeats, before he slowly cracks up, excitedly clapping his hands together like an overly enthused seal. “Like the actor! _Almost paradise~!”_ He sing songs at the end, like it’s 2009 again and Lee Minho the actor hasn’t had a dozen other memorable roles since _Boys Over Flowers._

Minho sighs, looking mildly exasperated. “And this is why I give a different name when I order coffee,” he says once Jisung is done singing. “Why is it, that no matter how much time has passed, that’s still the first thing people reference when they hear my name?”

“Well,” Jisung shrugs. “I have fond memories of being able to stay up late during weekdays when this drama was airing - mostly because my mother was obsessed.”

Minho laughs. “Honestly— mine was, too.”

“Well, I guess that’s something we have in common, then,” Jisung points out, grinning once more.

“I like money, too,” Minho shares, laughing as if he doesn’t really believe what he’s saying.

“Okay, wow, sir, two things in common, wow!” Jisung grins and raises two thumbs up. “Clearly we match very well!”

“Is that so?” Minho softly hums, picking his drink up and talking a long, quiet sip after he gently blows on it. “So, Han Jisung—” And Jisung thinks the way Minho says his name is curiously intriguing, “—what time does your shift end?”

Jisung automatically looks at the clock that hung over the counter, surprised to see that it’s almost half past midnight. “Soon,” he answers. “I get off at one— wait! Whoa—” He squints at Minho. “Are you hitting on me, good sir?!”  

Minho blinks rapidly - and Jisung wonders if this is a habit he’s developed so he can show off just how pretty his lashes are because if so then he thinks the plan is working perfectly. He’s never paid attention to anyone’s eye lashes this much before.

“No,” Minho laughs. “I’m just asking what time your shift ends!”

“Why—?” Jisung gives him a cautious look, but before Minho can answer, the wind chimes by the door ring again, and Jeongin is calling out to him. _Oops. Customer,_ he thinks, immediately getting on his feet. “Back to work!” He announces, smiling and giving Minho one of his patented salutes.

“Back to work,” Minho hums, nodding and waving him off. “Talk to you later,” he thinks he hears Minho say as well, but he isn’t sure because he’s quickly stepping behind the counter so he can tend to the impatient looking couple who both look more than ready to order.

  
  
  


 

“Hi.”

Minho’s greeting feels quite sudden and out of the blue, especially as it comes right as Jisung steps out of the cafe. His surprise at Minho’s looming presence is apparent in the way his eyes widen and his hand automatically clutches at his chest.

“What the f—!” He squeaks, needing to take a calming breath before he can properly face Minho, who is actually _cackling._ Jisung scowls at him, “You really think scaring people to death is funny, huh?!”

“Are you saying you could have… died? From me saying hi?” Minho’s laughter just grows louder, echoing softly down the empty street.

Jisung huffs, unhappy with how he’s apparently become the butt of some joke to Minho. “Well, it’s not my fault you’re creepily lurking in the dark,” he grumbles.

“Say what was that?” Minho leans closer as if to hear better, and Jisung feels his cheeks heat up. Feeling self conscious, he quickly pulls himself up to his full height. “I wasn’t creepily lurking—” Minho explains. “I literally left the coffee shop just a couple of minutes ago.”

“A couple of minutes should have let you covered at least half a block already,” Jisung points out. “So you were definitely lurking.”

“I wasn’t,” Minho clarifies. “I was waiting for you.”

Jisung stares, taken aback at the nonchalance of Minho’s declaration. “Excuse me?”

Minho smiles, and Jisung finds himself fascinated by the way the corners of his lips curl up. _Fuck,_ he finds himself thinking yet again, _handsome people really are infuriating._

“I have a proposition—” Minho begins.

“Whoa there, mister,” Jisung raises his hands, and takes a cautious step back. “So _now,_ you _are_ hitting on me, right?”

Minho snorts and mirrors Jisung by raising his hands as well. “You wish, huh?” He teases, but then he shakes his head. “I feel like you’re the type to not let the other person finish what they’re saying half the time.”

Jisung folds his arms across his chest and lets out another huff; he refuses to admit out loud that Minho is more or less correct about his observation. Four out of every five friends he’s had throughout his entire life have complained about this to him. “Well, finish then!”

“Do you have anything to do for the rest of the night?”

Jisung gawks at him. “It’s _one in the morning,_ sir. I’m going to go home and crawl into my not-very-nice-but-still-perfect-because-its-mine bed, and then I’m going to have nice, maybe wholesome, maybe steamy dreams about Lee Dongwook-nim as soon as my head hits my pillow.”

“Wow, you sure talk a lot, huh?” Minho stares at him, looking half entertained, and half exasperated. “And Lee Dongwook— I guess you at least have good taste.”

“You asked a question, I answered,” Jisung says, shrugging. “And that’s right! I have premium brand, high quality taste. Best of the best on—!”

“Spend the night with me,” Minho blurts out, before Jisung can even finish his sentence.

“Excuse me?!” Jisung’s eyes widen in shock, and once again his metaphorical guard goes up. _“What?”_

“I’ll pay for your time if it’s an issue,” Minho continues, and by this time, Jisung is just shaking his head.

“I’m not a fucking cheap dollar whore, so excuse _you,”_ he snaps, right before he turns on his heel.

“Wait, no, it’s not like that!” Minho calls out, his hand lightly brushing against the back of Jisung’s shirt as if he’d tried to reach out.

“I don’t know if you’re hearing your own words, but that’s exactly what it sounds like,” Jisung retorts, stopping but not exactly turning to face Minho again just yet.

“I’m not propositioning you for a night with me— just… a… night. With me.” He pauses, and Jisung turns to give him a Very Pointed Look. For some reason, when their eyes meet, both of them burst into loud cackles. “I didn’t mean sex,” Minho quickly clarifies, once their combined laughter has tapered off. “I never sleep, so— for once, I thought it’d be nice to have some company.”

“You _never_ sleep?” Jisung scoffs. “What are you, a vampire?!”

“Wow, what a very imaginative response,” Minho shoots back, his tone laced with equal parts sarcasm and amusement. “I just—” He sighs, and Jisung finds himself actually taking a step towards him; he’s curious, and he can’t help himself. “I just have a hard time sleeping for more than a few hours at a time, is all.”

“Don’t you have actual friends you can hang out with _for free?”_ There’s judgment in his tone that Jisung immediately regrets; he really just doesn’t get why anyone would actually pay for time with him, unless Minho really is just A Big Fat Creep who is preying on him.

“They’re all asleep.”

“I should be asleep,” Jisung points out. “I was planning on sleep.”

“You also said you love money—” Minho teases, and Jisung groans.

“How do I know I can trust that you’re not some weird sexual offender after me and my… goodies?” Jisung narrows his eyes at Minho as he gestures at himself; he can’t believe he’s _actually_ considering this. The things he does for some extra cash flow, really. _At least,_ he reminds himself, _it all goes towards his dreams._

“Okay, wait—” Minho reaches for his wallet and pulls a small card out, which he hands over to Jisung.

He immediately identifies it as a business card as soon as he accepts it. _Lee Minho, Cherry Cat Connections. Wedding Planner._ Their logo is a cute orange cat playing with twin cherries. _Cute,_ he thinks. A business address, a mobile number and an e-mail contact is provided on the card as well.

“Hmm.” He purses his lips, and _again,_ he really can’t believe how much he’s considering this.

“Not enough?” Minho pulls something else out of his wallet to show Jisung; this time it’s his ID.

Jisung snatches it out of his hand, and squints at the photo, comparing it to the man right in front of him. His biggest takeaway is that it’s unfair, how good Minho looks in his ID card. No one should be allowed to look _that_ good in their identification card.  

“Okay, I can confirm this _is_ you, at least,” he grudgingly admits, after he compares the information on the ID and the business card. “Wait—!” He realises something right before he hands the ID back. “The address— you live on _this_ street?”

Minho laughs, and points at the building just across them. “Tenth floor.”

Jisung grimaces; this is a very rich neighborhood, so now it makes sense why Minho had been so quick to flaunt his money. He doesn’t know why he’s even surprised, though. It makes sense that he’d have money if he could afford nightly splurging on overpriced tea and pastries.

The disregard and belittling of money annoys him however, and helps lessen his awe of Minho’s physical beauty. He supposes that’s exactly why his next words come out of his mouth.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” he announces through gritted teeth. “But my time is expensive. Just so you know.”

“Okay, name your price.” Minho lifts his chin, challenging. His eyes are sparkling - with mischief or interest, Jisung can’t be sure.

“30,000 KRW,” Jisung tells him after a pause.

“Call,” Minho answers immediately.

“Per hour,” Jisung quickly adds, when he realises no hesitation on Minho’s part means he could easily ask for more.

This time, Minho actually pauses for a brief moment, before nodding. The tiny wince he makes isn’t lost on Jisung either, so he’s satisfied.

“Shake on it,” Jisung declares, an excited grin drawn on his mouth as he holds his right hand out.

Minho snorts and takes the offered hand. “Well, at least I know there’s no way tonight is going to be boring,” he says, laughing.

“Also—” Jisung adds, taking his hand back and instead holding Minho’s business card up, so it’s better illuminated by the nearby street light when he takes a photo of it with his phone. “Okay, I just sent that to my group chat with Felix and Jeongin.” He glares at Minho. “Felix took up taekwondo, just so you know. If anything bad happens to me, he’ll hunt you down and kick your ass!”

Jisung is pretty sure that his friend couldn’t hurt a fly if he tried, but at least it isn’t a lie that Felix took up taekwondo when he was younger - at least, it wasn’t a lie based on the stories that Felix tells. Whether or not that means he’s capable of beating Minho up, he isn’t sure, but whatever - he figures it should be good enough a threat.

“Wow, okay, I’m shaking in my boots,” Minho answers without a hint of fear at all. “Don’t worry, okay?” He chuckles. “I’m not a serial killer.”

“Well,” Jisung huffs. “You better not be because I’m putting my safety in your hands for tonight. And also,” he looks down at Minho’s feet, presently clad in very comfortable looking men’s sandals, and then he looks back up. “You’re not even wearing boots, sir.”

  
  
  


 

_tbc._


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisung and Minho run into each other... in broad daylight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] I really suck at summaries, so... I guess just read and see what happens, hah. I welcome any and all questions, guesses, and any other thoughts about where this is going. I'm curious what people think. But anyway, I hope you all who're still reading, are still enjoying this ♥
> 
> [ ☆ ] Also, curiously, how many people know that using a '&' on a ship on AO3 means it's a platonic relationship, and using a '/' implies a romantic/sexual relationship? ajhgsjhas haha.

  
  
  
  
  


“Hyung, over here!” 

Minho immediately spots an overly enthusiastic Seungmin waving at him from across the park; he’s much, much more gleeful than he was the last time Minho saw him - which was an entire week ago. 

He chuckles and lifts a hand to wave back casually. The complete 180 of Seungmin’s mood is unsurprising, especially since the entire reason for it was standing just a few feet away from him, talking to a fully decked out bride and groom, and trying to get them to pose accordingly, their background a beautiful water fountain that Minho and Seungmin’s staff have decorated with a lot of white and blue flowers.

“Seungmin, Hyunjin—” Minho greets them with a nod as soon as he reaches them. He turns to the couple in the middle of being photographed as well, waving at them to announce his presence more than anything. 

“Hey, hyung!” Hyunjin greets him, briefly looking over his shoulder to wave at him before he goes back to taking pictures of the couple.

“You’re late,” Seungmin tells him, trying to sound reprimanding, but there’s not even a hint of venom on his tone.

Minho shrugs. “Wanted to give you and loverboy a bit more alone time,” he answers, teasing - it only serves to get him a light punch on the shoulder, which, to be fair, he probably deserves because his words are an obvious lie.

He’s given Seungmin more than enough time with Hyunjin the past week, letting his friend take all of it off so he can surprise his boyfriend with a trip to Jeju as celebration for two hundred days of officially being together, as well as celebration for their reunion after almost a month of being apart. Hyunjin, a former model turned photographer, had gone aboard a luxury cruise liner that circled Southeast Asia because of his work.

Around five years ago Seungmin had decided, on a whim, that he wanted to take professional photography lessons, and it was in those classes that he’d met Hyunjin. The latter was then still at the height of his modeling career, but he hadn’t been satisfied with just being a pretty face in front of the camera - he wanted to learn more about what went on behind the scenes. It was thanks to Seungmin and Minho that Hyunjin had gotten his first professional break, as they’d kept hiring him to do prenuptial photoshoots for most of their early clients, until he eventually made a name for himself as a freelance photographer. Minho never lets them forget that this is how and why he’d had a front-row seat to their annoyingly slow burn friends-to-lovers romance.

“Wait a sec—” Minho takes his sunglasses off and places it atop his head; he squints at Hyunjin who is still politely giving the pair of prenuptials instructions on how to move around. “Did loverboy actually get a  _ fucking _ tan?!”

“Stop calling him that,” Seungmin frowns, elbowing Minho’s side. 

Minho snickers; his best friend is so easy to tease sometimes. “Did  _ Snow White _ actually get a tan?” He asks again, this time using another nickname he knows would get under Seungmin’s skin.

This time Seungmin just rolls his eyes, and lets out an exasperated sigh. “He traveled around snapping photos while it was  _ summer _ in Southeast Asia -  _ of course _ he got a bit tan,” he says. “He told me he got sunburnt the first week, poor thing - but I guess it got better after a few weeks.”

“He looks hot,” Minho comments without hesitation.

“He… does,” Seungmin mumbles, ducking his head as if embarrassed.

“Seungmin—” Minho laughs, when he turns to look at his friend, only to realise that a deep blush has crept up his cheeks. “Oh.  _ Oh wow,” _ Minho comments, his laughter getting louder. “You’re totally into this tanned Adonis version of Hyunjin!”

_ “Shut up!” _ Seungmin hisses, his face getting redder as he elbows Minho again.

Minho snorts. “I think it’s cute— you’ve known each other for so long but he still gets you flustered as if you’re in your teens.”

“Whatever,” Seungmin huffs. “Anyway,” he turns and squints at Minho. “You’re looking worse for wear.”

“Hm?” Minho winces, and reaches up so he can adjust his sunglasses over his eyes again. He almost forgot that he’d put them on originally so he could hide just how bad his eye bags had gotten in the span of a week. 

“Actually, no—” Seungmin doesn’t hesitate before he reaches over and takes the Ray-Bans away himself. “Those dark circles are definitely deeper, but—” He pauses, and hums as if in thought. “You seem weirdly chipper than you would be. Also, you actually called me and Hyunjin  _ cute.  _ Did something happen this week?”

“I said  _ you _ were cute,” Minho responds, quick to snatch his glasses back and put them on again. “Not you  _ and  _ loverboy together. And yes, lots of things happened at work and you owe me so much for all the missed hours,” he continues in a deadpan manner. “I helped Jihyo-ssi pick her dresses for this shoot, and we finalized the menu for their wedding as well. Busy, busy week.”

Park Jihyo, the bride that Hyunjin was currently busy taking pictures of, was the only daughter of a family that owned a high-class hotel chain. She was set to marry Park Sungjin, a famous balladeer who had a song that quickly rose up the Melon charts every year, during the winter season. Together, they had a combined budget more than enough to support an  _ exclusive _ guest list of around 200.

“Had to go through at least  _ fifty _ dresses, before she was able to pick five that fit her style,” Minho continues.

“Oh shut it,” Seungmin interrupts with a head shake. “Should I remind you of everything I had to deal with Nayeon-ssi?”

Minho laughs. “Should I tell you about  _ my _ week in detail, then? Friendly reminder that Nayeon-ssi and Jihyo-ssi are best friends.” They both know that Minho’s just pulling Seungmin’s leg, trying to distract him from further investigating about what exactly happened to him during the past week. Jihyo  _ is _ best friends with Nayeon - they’d even arranged to get her to catch the bouquet during the previous week’s ceremony - but she’s also way easier to work with.

“Stop changing the topic,” Seungmin hums. “There’s definitely something different about you,” he insists, swerving right back as he stares more intently at Minho now. 

Minho sighs because Seungmin knows him far too well by now; the truth is that the last several days have been good to him. He  _ has _ been getting even less sleep than usual, but that was because he’d spent all of the last seven nights with Jisung. 

“I changed my cologne,” he tells Seungmin with a sigh, as if he’s being forced to admit a secret. To be fair, it’s not a complete lie - he  _ is _ trying a new scent he just bought the other day. But that aside, for some reason, Jisung is something he wants to keep to himself for now.

“That’s not it,” Seungmin says, shaking his head, because  _ of course _ he knows that Minho is still holding back; he’s turned again, however, and is back to watching his boyfriend work - at least he also knows Minho enough to be aware that he shouldn’t pry before Minho is ready.

  
  
  


 

— << —

  
  
  


 

_ Rewind. _

 

“So where are you taking me?” 

This is the first thing Jisung asks after Minho pays him up front for three hours of his time. They’re outside a 24/7 ATM booth because Minho didn’t exactly have cash on him, and now they were standing there, staring at each other. Jisung’s eyes are wide and round, looking at him with a kind of bright, but impatient eagerness.

Minho blinks, hesitant to admit that he doesn’t exactly have a plan past getting Jisung to agree to spend the night with him. He doesn’t even really know what possessed him to  _ ask _ him for his time, much more actually propose to  _ pay. _ All he knows is that he’s bored, and unable to sleep, and that here is a boy who’s cute, but more than that, seems  _ interesting. _

“I don’t know,” he confesses eventually. “Where do you want to go?”

“Well, I want to go to a five-star hotel buffet and have you pay but—” Jisung laughs, and it’s a full kind of laugh, the type that bubbles right up from one’s diaphragm, infecting everyone around until there’s a chorus of laughter surrounding him.

“Maybe next time,” he answers without much thought.

“Oh?” Jisung scoffs. “Already assuming there’s a next time, huh?”

“I mean—” Minho shrugs, quick to put on a facade of nonchalance because he’s expert at this. “If you play  _ your  _ cards right, then maybe, we’ll see.”

Jisung stares at him again, hands gripping the straps of his backpack like he’s an overgrown child on his way to school. Minho stares back, not one to easily back down; and then Jisung is laughing, and Minho can’t help but allow himself to just join in, finally.

“Well,” Jisung starts, as soon as they’ve both calmed down. “What do you usually do when it’s this time of night and you can’t sleep?”

“I read— sometimes I watch movies in my room,” Minho admits with a shrug.

“Wow, you lead such an exciting life,” Jisung remarks with with feigned awe.

“And you’re here to make it even more exciting,” Minho shoots back; and then like an afterthought, he adds,  _ “Wow.” _

Jisung groans and shakes his head before unceremoniously grabbing Minho’s arm. “Fine!” He declares. “Follow me then— I’m starving, anyway.”

Jisung has automatically hooked one of his arms with Minho, who normally would have shaken it off immediately, but this time, he finds himself allowing the other male to drag him along through the hold. They walk together in silence for a block and a half, until they reach the bus stop.

“You’re taking me home?” Minho asks, teasing.

“What—?” Jisung laughs. “No!” He gestures across the street where a large 24 hour convenience store stood. “I’m hungry, and you’re paying,” he explains, surprisingly taking his time to look at both sides of the road like a stand-up citizen before he leads Minho over to the other side.

He lets go of Minho’s arm so he can push the glass doors open, and Minho, strangely enough, almost reaches forward to grab him back. He catches himself at the last second, however, and he easily steps back, consciously trailing after Jisung a couple of steps away.

He watches as Jisung grabs a hand-carry basket before expertly making his way straight to the sweets aisle. Jisung doesn’t even  _ hesitate, _ before he starts throwing items into the basket - an entire box of choco pies, a pack of Oreos, and even a box strawberry and cream pastries. He’s not finished, however, and he next makes his way to the aisle with all the chips, where he proceeds to grab a few bags as well.

“Are you shopping for supplies, or—?” Minho asks, by the time they get to the microwavables, where Jisung has just grabbed at least half a dozen packs of triangle kimbap. 

“Do you know that they sell everything here for at least 500 KRW more per item?” Jisung asks him instead of answering. He’s already on the move again, this time just stopping right in front of the ice cream freezer. “I mean, if you compare the prices with convenience stores in other districts.”

“What?” Minho is confused; and also a little distracted as they both reach for the same pouch of iced yogurt. 

“Oh!” Jisung grins. “Is this another thing we have in common then, Mr. Lee Minho-not-the-Actor?”

Minho laughs, taking it upon himself to reach for another pouch instead. “I’ve been craving,” he admits. “And also— why do you have to say my name like that? Mr. Han Jisung-the-Barista? Oh—” He laughs some more. “That was kind of fun to say.”

“Right?!” Jisung grins, arranging the contents in the basket so he can make room for more; he then proceeds to add a few bottles of energy drink into his pile as well.

“And wait, it’s really more expensive here?” Minho asks; he’s actually never noticed this - but then, even though he’s someone who is careful with his finances and his investments, he’s also never been so strapped for cash that he tends to not really notice slight pricing differences.

“It is,” Jisung confirms, but even though he’s apparently aware of this, he doesn’t hesitate, going through more aisles to grab more products. He gets sausage sticks, cheese sticks, large packets of ramyeon - when he adds a couple of containers of microwaveable rice in the basket, Minho is tempted to say something, but he doesn’t because the truth is that… he’s  _ amused. _

When Jisung finally dumps his loot on the counter and the half-asleep cashier rings the purchase in, Jisung simply steps aside and gives Minho a waiting look.

“Wow,” Minho mutters, genuinely impressed at Jisung’s natural audacity.

“Thank you for being so generous, kind sir,” Jisung tells him, grinning so widely, so  _ saucily, _ almost like a pleased five year old, that Minho can’t even bring himself to be annoyed. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he comments as he takes his card out of his wallet to hand over to the cashier.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jisung says, laughing some more.

Once Minho is done paying, he follows Jisung outside, where the smaller male takes a seat at one of the tables. 

“Here—” He’s already taken out a few of his purchases by the time Minho takes the seat across his. He hands over one of the iced yogurt pouches to Minho, together with a kimbap triangle. “Let’s have a happy meal!” He declares, clapping his hands together once before proceeding to unwrap his own kimbap.

Jisung, Minho finds out soon enough, is the type who takes massive bites, filling his cheeks with food in a way that makes him look like a hamster. Or a puffer fish, it depends, really.

_ Cute, _ he thinks, and then Jisung looks up, meeting his gaze and for a quick second, Minho feels panic that he might have actually said that out loud.

“Aremft you gofhna eaght?” Jisung says, mouth too full for Minho to comprehend what he’s saying. He twists the cap of his iced yogurt open, and takes a gulp from it, using it to help push his food down before he can repeat, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Have  _ you _ not eaten all day?” Minho asks back instead.

Jisung shrugs. “I’m a growing boy.”

“Wait—” Minho frowns; now he’s worried that Jisung is an actual minor - in which case, he shouldn’t even be out this late. “How old  _ are  _ you?”

“Um,” Jisung laughs sheepishly, ducking his head before he actually answers. “Twenty-six.”

Minho snorts, immediately relieved. He’s Seungmin’s age - which means their gap isn’t that big. Not that he cares, _really,_ because why should he? “I’m twenty-eight,” he supplies. “Which means I’m older. Have some respect.”

“Yes,  _ hyung!” _ Jisung chirps, his embarrassment gone as quickly as it had appeared. He’s back to taking massive bites of kimbap again, looking comical with his round cheeks, and bits of rice sticking at the corners of his mouth.

Three hours pass by quicker than Minho realises; their banter flows easy, even as they just sit there, outside a convenience store, going through Jisung’s food stash that Minho paid for.  It’s strange, how natural it feels, because their back and forth is as smooth as his rapport with Seungmin, a friend that he’s known for almost his entire life. If he was being honest, it was maybe even smoother, but Minho is quick to file this observation away at the back of his head.

It’s funny, too, because it’s not as if they start talking about anything meaningful. Jisung mostly just starts to share little convenience store food hacks - like how he likes to sometimes use whole milk instead of water in his spicy shin ramyeon. 

“You just pour the milk into the cup,” Jisung explains, “and then you microwave it. It tastes fucking good, I swear! I have it for breakfast at least once a week.”

“You’re fucking weird,” Minho tells him.

“Says the guy paying for  _ my _ company,” Jisung easily shoots back, without any hesitation or hint of shame; Minho kind of likes that about him, he decides.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he points out, after all,  _ weird _ is an adjective he’s accustomed to being used on  _ him. _

“Oh, well—” Jisung grins. “Thank you for the compliment, then.”

Jisung also mentions how he likes snacking on raw ramyeon, how he likes pouring the powdered flavoring into the pack, then shaking it so it coats the dry noodles deliciously.

“Me too,” Minho finds himself agreeing a little too enthusiastically. “That was my favorite after school snack as a kid,” he shares, laughing as old memories flood in. “My best friend always judged me for it - says it was an uncouth snack.”

“Your best friend has no taste,” Jisung huffs, shaking a pack of ramyeon right at that moment, for them to share. “Also— who uses the word  _ uncouth _ as a kid?!”

Minho laughs. “Seungmin does,” he interjects, and Jisung just laughs.

“Seungmin is an idiot,” he declares, in a way that sounds like he’s known Seungmin all his life, and he’s saying this out of fondness, which is the only reason that Minho doesn’t get worked up in feeling the need to defend his best friend.

“I should go,” Jisung says eventually, at one point, after he’s exhausted himself telling Minho all about his unhealthy eating habits. The statement causes Minho to glance at his phone for the time, only to be surprised when the display reads 4:13 AM. 

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbles. “Where do you live, anyway?”

“North of the river,” Jisung answers, shoving their leftover Oreos back into the plastic bag, together with the rest of what remained of his convenience store loot. “My bus should arrive in around fifteen minutes,” he adds, head nodding towards the direction of the bus stop across the street.

Minho is actually tempted to offer him more money to stay, but he bites his tongue. He’s not  _ that _ desperate, he reminds himself. He’s not even desperate,  _ at all. Just bored, if anything, _ he repeats mentally.

“Well, take care,” he nods, pushing his chair out so he can stand. 

Jisung grins, having already gathered all his convenience store bags. “See you tomorrow, Lee Minho-hyung!” He waves, and then he gives Minho a salute; it amuses Minho, he thinks that must be some kind of trademark sign-off Jisung has, and more than that, he thinks it fits him.

“See you tomorrow,” he murmurs back, even though it’s unlikely that Jisung, who is already halfway across the street, would hear.

  
  
  
  


 

They do see each other the night after; In fact, Minho finds himself at the Soul Cup night after night - which isn’t new, per se, but he also finds himself waiting every night until Jisung is clocking out of his shift at exactly 1 AM. 

“Wow, you really can’t get enough of me, huh?” Jisung jokes by the next night, but Minho simply laughs it off. He figures it’s better to ignore comments like that instead of actually acknowledging them and whatever truth they might maybe contain.  _ (Which they don’t, _ Minho assures himself.  _ He’s just bored.) _

They do different things every night - like they go to a neighborhood playground their second night together, and Jisung regales Minho with stories about when he was eleven, and he’d broken his arm after he’d jumped off a swing after being dared to do so by a childhood friend. He’d ended up needing to wear a cast on his arm for a little over a month, but he spoke fondly of the experience anyway - mostly because he apparently had every area of the cast filled with notes and drawings from all his friends at school. In turn, Minho tells him about when he was thirteen, and he’d managed to convince his parents to let him take dance classes - only for the experience to be cut short after he severely sprained his ankle.

Another night, they spend hours at a twenty-four hour noraebang, where Minho learns that Jisung’s go-to warm up song is 2PM’s  _ 10 out of 10 _ \- same as him. He finds out that Jisung has a vocal range that goes up to two octaves, and that when he tries to hit high notes, a very visible vein always looks like it want to desperately pop out from his neck.

Jisung also drags him once to a PC bang where they stay all night playing games they’re both quite bad at, and another time they go and hang out at Han River, drinking iced coffee and munching on sausage sticks. They talk about anything and everything, and Minho loses so much sleep, but every morning he feels a strange new spring in his step, anyway.

  
  
  


 

— >> — 

  
  
  


 

“Is it just me, or has that big rabbit mascot been staring at us for a while now?” Seungmin asks Minho, nudging him as they both help Hyunjin pack up his gear now that today’s photoshoot is over and done with. 

“Hm? Which—?” Minho looks around, in an attempt to identify who Seungmin is talking about. “Probably just curious about the picture-taking - Jihyo-ssi looked quite breathtaking in her gown, earlier. Or, if they swing the other way, Sungjin-ssi wasn’t so bad looking either, even though, for a celebrity, he’s pretty bad at photo shoots.” He snickers softly as he refers to not only how six out of ten shots had Sungjin making a strange face, but also the way the groom had been quite impatient earlier, every so often asking how much longer they were going to take, much to the bride’s chagrin.

Seungmin snorts and lightly hits Minho’s arm. “Stop, they’ll hear you,” he hisses; Sungjin and Jihyo are standing a few feet away, still clad in the formalwear they’d donned for the shoot, but they were too busy lovingly staring at each other to pay attention to their surroundings. If Minho didn’t find the exchange too sickeningly sweet, maybe he’d think that their earlier photoshoot would have gone easier, and without a hitch had they been doing then what they’re doing now - but alas, he’d really rather  _ not _ look at them a second longer. 

“Anyway,” Seungmin continues, “that one, the one handing out red balloons.” He nods towards a certain direction, and when Minho follows his line of vision, sure enough he spots a big, pink rabbit holding a handful of balloons in his left paw.

“How do you even know he’s staring—” Minho starts to ask; he was a mascot, and it wasn’t as if you can actually see the eyes of the person inside the costume. Before he can finish his question, however, the rabbit suddenly waves his paw at them, unwittingly letting go of the balloons in the process and causing him to comically try and reach for them again in a panicked manner.

“Wow—” Seungmin snorts. “The bunny is an idiot.”

Minho is about to agree, but then the rabbit is skipping over to them, waving still. Confused, Minho gives him a half-hearted wave right back.

“Hyung!” The rabbit says once he reaches them; Seungmin gives Minho a questioning glance, while Minho realises that he actually recognizes the voice.

“Jisung—?” He asks, just to be sure, and then mascot is taking off his big bunny head, and Minho is met with Jisung’s boyish grin.

“Hey, hyung! Fancy seeing you here!” Jisung greets. “In broad daylight!”

From the corner of his eye, Minho notices Seungmin giving him a curious look, which he decides to ignore for now.

“You’re a mascot?” He asks, lips pursed as if he’s trying his best not laugh.

“Yeah!” Jisung answers, sounding strangely proud. “The pay sucks, to be honest, but money is money.”

Minho snorts - because that sounds exactly like something he expects to hear from Jisung by now. “Money is money,” he echoes.

Beside him, Seungmin clears his throat, and Jisung turns to face him before looking at Minho with an expecting expression. 

“Oh, right,” Minho says, as if he’s just forgotten to introduce them, instead of actually avoiding it - which is the real case. “Seungmin, this is Jisung. Jisung, Seungmin. He works at the cafe across from my apartment building,” he explains.

“Hello, nice to meet you,” Jisung greets, his smile bright, friendly and inviting. Seungmin, meanwhile, is just looking at him as if he’s trying to figure something out.

“Wait—” Seungmin looks at Minho, eyes shiny as a big smile spreads across his lips. “Is this ‘I Love You’ guy?!” 

_ Shit, _ Minho thinks, because he’s forgotten by now that he actually told Seungmin (and Woojin) about that incident. But the way Jisung’s button eyes widen makes him laugh, anyway.

“Oh, wow, you really  _ did _ tell your friends about me, huh, hyung?” Jisung is laughing now, as well, as he gives Minho a light punch on the shoulder. He sounds bizarrely proud and happy, and Minho can’t help his own smile, even as he only shrugs in response. “Wait, Seungmin—?” He turns to the other male again. “Seungmin, the guy who still doesn’t drink coke because Minho-hyung once told you the acid in soda slowly melts your brain?!”

Seungmin gawks at Minho, whose laughter simply grows at Jisung’s statement. He can’t believe that story, out of everything he’s shared with Jisung over the last several days, is the one that stuck to Jisung. Granted, it’s probably because he’d apparently pulled almost the same prank on his friend - the other barista called Felix - except where Minho was nine years old and a mischievous  _ child, _ Jisung was a fully-grown adult at twenty-five. (“He was drinking it so refreshingly,” Jisung had explained, laughing. “And I wanted it for myself! How was I supposed to know he was going to bite?!”)

“I was  _ seven _ when Minho-hyung told me that,” Seungmin grumbles, displeased that this is the kind of impression Jisung has of him. 

“And until now you hate cola for it,” Minho points out, chuckling.

“Well, it’s really not good for you,” Seungmin mutters. “Whatever,” he adds, shooting Minho a murderous glare, before turning to Jisung again. “It’s nice meeting you, Jisung-ssi,” he says through gritted teeth; and then he holds out the folded camera tripod that he was still carrying. “Anyway, I’m going to take this to the car.”

“Well— I don’t think he likes me,” Jisung comments, once Seungmin is more than a few feet away.

“It’s only because he thinks I made him look like an idiot to you,” Minho explains, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ll take care of him later.”

“Right,” Jisung nods; his grin is back on his face again. “Anyway, hyung! It’s lucky I saw you here!”

“Lucky, huh?” Minho smirks. “Miss me that much already?”

Jisung snorts. “It’s not that! I switched shifts with a day employee who needed an emergency day-off tomorrow so I won’t be around tonight - and I was panicking because I had no idea how to tell you!”

Minho quirks an eyebrow; it’s curious to him that Jisung even thought about needing to tell him. The thought gives him a funny feeling in his stomach, but he doesn’t say anything just yet.

“Oh, okay,” he shrugs, proceeding to act completely unbothered. “Now I know.”

Jisung frowns; Minho isn’t sure if it’s because of his lack of reaction, or if it’s something else. He doesn’t want to assume.

“Yeah, well—” Jisung exhales with a huff. “I think it’s time we exchanged KaTalk IDs, no?” He flails his arms lightly, wincing. “I can’t reach for my phone in this outfit though…”

“Ah, yeah—” Minho can’t help but chuckle at Jisung’s antics, but he’s also quick to pull his phone out of his pocket. “Give me your ID, then,” he tells the younger as he opens the messaging app on his phone.

“It’s  _ handsomej1,” _ Jisung informs him. “H-A-N-D—” Before he can even finish spelling it out loud, Minho is already laughing and typing it in.

“Handsome, huh?” He holds his phone screen out to show Jisung, who nods unabashedly.

“Describes me perfectly!” He chirps, a little too cheerfully. “Han for handsome!”

“Okay,” Minho nods, choosing to ignore Jisung’s display of overconfidence, instead writing a quick message on his phone. “There, I sent you something so you can add me when you get your phone.”

“Cool!” Jisung begins to adjust his massive bunny head over his own. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so I’ll add you later, hyung!”

“See you when I see you,” Minho murmurs.

Jisung’s bunny mascot head bobs up and down, and then, as usual, he gives Minho a salute before turning around. And Minho is left to watch as Jisung, looking ridiculous in his cloyingly pink bunny suit, walks away. And then he forces himself to turn away, walking up to finish that day’s business with their clients - all while consciously trying to push away the niggling disappointment caused by the fact that he won’t have that night to spend with the younger male.

  
  
  
  


 

**leeminh01025** ➤ **handsomej1:** don’t miss me too much - minho

  
  
  
  


 

_ tbc. _


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] I give up on chapter summaries, lmao. Thank you to everyone who has been keeping up with this! This is pretty much... the halfway mark of the story.

  
  
  
  
  


“Hey, Binnie-hyung!” Jisung calls out to his friend; once the older male looks his way, Jisung gestures at his collarbone area. “You’ve got something here,” he says, and when Changbin looks down, Jisung quickly reaches out and taps his chin with his palm. “Gotcha,” he teases, snickering.

Changbin just stares at him, brow creased. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks, just as he reaches over to flick Jisung on the forehead.

“Ow!” Jisung frowns, rubbing his now reddening forehead. “You didn't have to flick that hard!”

Changbin snickers, and moves to tie his black apron around his waist. “Yeah, maybe just finish getting ready before—”

As if on cue, their boss, Bang Chan pokes his head into the back room. “Stop playing around, the wedding party should be here soon, so finish getting ready!” He’s smiling, but the tone he uses on them is firm and commanding.

“Yessir,” Jisung mumbles hurriedly; once Chan speaks, it means business, and so he fumbles with tying his apron around him. “Ready, sir!” He playfully announces, to which Chan just laughs and shakes his head with resigned exasperation.

Jisung has only really had this part-time gig as a cater-waiter for a couple months, and he’d easily landed it thanks to his roommate, Changbin’s, recommendation. As someone who has had numerous jobs in the service industry ever since he turned into a legal adult, he’d like to think he’s a pretty handy employee to have. He likes Chan, as well - he’s strict as a boss, but once the job is done, he isn’t bad to have around and hang out with. The pay, of course, is subpar, but Jisung is used to that.

Presently, Chan’s catering service has been hired to work and serve at a small wedding party. Jisung is a bit excited, because according to Changbin, the newlyweds are a couple of C-list celebrities - he has no idea who, though, because his roommate refused to tell him more.

“Hey, you want to go and get drinks with me and Chan-hyung after this is over tonight?” Changbin asks while he and Jisung gather a couple of trays to take out - the weddings guests have just arrived, and the sunlit conservatory where the reception is being held, was slowly being filled. “He says he’ll take us to a fancy place a friend of his owns. Seoyeon's going too,” he adds, referring to their neighbor, and another one of Chan’s waitress employees.

“Oh, so is  _ that _ why you want me there?” Jisung teases him; he’s pretty sure those two have some kind of thing going on - or, at least, that Changbin has a thing for Seoyeon. It’s just that Changbin refuses to ever admit it to him. “So Chan-hyung won’t feel too much like a third wheel? You finally going to make a move on Seoyeonnie?”

“Oh shut up,” Changbin groans. “Dating Seoyeon is going to be like dating a female you and… gross—!” He makes a face, and Jisung flips him the bird while laughing.

“First of all, Seoyeon and I are not  _ that _ much alike,” he counters; at least he doesn’t think so, no matter how much Changbin insists that they’re two sides of the same coin, Jisung will never agree. Still, “Besides, you’d be  _ lucky _ to date  _ me,” _ he proclaims with a grin.

“Ok, sure—” Changbin snorts, clearly unimpressed. “Just wanted to invite you because Chan-hyung asked. Free drinks, and all.”

“Tonight?” Despite the mention of free drinks, Jisung doesn’t even have to pause and think before he shakes his head.

“I thought you didn’t have a shift at the Soul Cup tonight?”

“I— don’t,” Jisung confirms; Changbin gives him a strange look, but before he can comment, they have to part ways on the floor so they can serve different tables with appetizers.

“You don’t work at the Soul Cup tonight though, right?” Changbin clarifies once more when they head back to the kitchen to get more food. “I thought you got someone to cover?”

“It’s not that,” Jisung clarifies. He purses his lips, unsure if he wants to bother explaining. Not that he needs to, because in the next breath, Changbin guesses correctly anyway.

“You meeting that Minho guy tonight, huh?”

Jisung hums, nodding, and then he quickly separates from Changbin to serve the table located at the far end of the room. It’s been a little over a month since he’d started spending time with Minho, and it feels both shorter and longer than that.

Shorter, because he still vividly remembers working up the courage to perform that little dare - still vividly remembers walking up to Minho, and then leaving him confused after a simple, yet ridiculous ‘I love you.’ But also longer, because Jisung feels as if he already knows Minho like the back of his hand; he feels as if he can predict Minho’s reactions to anything he says or does, down to a micro-level. Just the other night, they’d been talking, and out of the blue Jisung had bet that he could finish Minho’s thoughts 90% of the time.

“Okay,” Minho had acquiesced, more out of obvious amusement than actual belief. “Finish this, then. I think Han Jisung is—”

“The greatest guy you’ve ever met,” Jisung immediately intercepted. But it was only because he’d predicted that Minho would laugh - but not until after he gave Jisung a feigned exasperated glare, which, of course he did. And then, as expected, as soon as Jisung broke into a huge grin, Minho’s laughter freely erupted from his throat.

He thinks he really likes that, how well he can read Minho despite having only known him for such a short time. And more than that, he thinks he really likes how well he manages to make Minho smile and laugh because these are things that multiply Minho’s beauty tenfold.

“Jisung—?” A familiar voice breaks through his thoughts just as he makes his way back to the kitchen in the back, and he’s momentarily confused. He wonders if it’s because he’s had Minho in his thoughts too much that he’s now hearing his voice randomly, but then someone really does call his name again. “Jisung!”

A hand claps on his shoulder, and when he turns around, there Minho is, smiling that same smile that really pisses Jisung off sometimes because of how pretty it is.

“Hyung!” Jisung’s jaw drops in surprise; from the corner of his eye he notices Changbin approaching, looking curious. “What are you doing here?”

“What are  _ you _ doing here?” Minho shoots back, just as he takes in Jisung’s outfit. “Although I guess this—” he gestures specifically at Jisung’s black apron, “—explains it. I’m working this wedding, too.”

“Oh. Right!” Jisung laughs because he  _ always _ forgets that Minho is a wedding planner. They talk about so many things, but somehow, to Jisung, this is the least interesting thing about Minho. “Oh! This is the wedding you mentioned the other night—?” He drops his voice into a more hushed tone, as if he’s about to repeat something that’s just for the two of them to hear, but before he can say anything more, Changbin has reached his side, looking like he’s expecting to be introduced to Minho.

“Yes?” Minho looks at Changbin, the same time the latter asks, “Is there anything I can help you with, Sir?”

That’s when Jisung realises that Changbin had simply thought that Minho was a guest asking for some kind of service.

“Wait, Binnie-hyung—” Jisung laughs, and waves a hand around. “This is Minho-hyung— he’s, uh,” he glances at Minho for help, “he’s the wedding planner.”

“Wedding planner Minho?” For a second, Changbin looks like he’s deep in thought, as if trying to figure out why that’s familiar. “Oh!” Jisung can practically  _ see _ the metaphorical light bulb turn on in Changbin’s head, reflected in his eyes, when it finally dawns on him. “Wedding planner Minho - you’re Jisung’s sugar daddy!”

Jisung almost chokes on his own spit at Changbin’s choice of words.  _ “Hyung, what!” _ He looks and  _ feels  _ horrified.

Minho, meanwhile, is just staring at Changbin with a blank expression; it makes Jisung frown because this is the first time in weeks that he’s been unable to read Minho. 

“Oi, what are the two of you doing, just standing there?” Chan’s voice breaks through the tense and awkward air just in time before it settles. “Go back to work,” he barks at them, before turning to Minho. “Did you need anything, Sir?”

“Ah, no.” Minho shakes his head; a smile is back on his features, but Jisung doesn’t recognise it - it’s definitely not the one he wears whenever they’re together, just the two of them, at night. “I just wanted to say that the guests have been complimenting the chicken a lot.”

Chan smiles, and graciously accepts the compliment. He and Minho start a conversation about the food, while Changbin grabs Jisung and leads him back to the kitchen.

“Why did you say that?!” Jisung hisses at his friend. “I never called him that!”

Changbin shrugs, looking half-amused, and like he’s just holding laughter in. “But isn’t that technically what he is? You have a standing arrangement, where he pays you for your company. I just call it as I see it.”

“You’re annoying,” Jisung tells him, at a loss for anything else to say.

“Just like you,” Changbin shoots back with a smug grin.

Jisung huffs and pushes past him; he doesn’t know why he’s so annoyed. The truth is that he hasn’t given this arrangement with Minho much thought in the recent weeks - he hasn’t even been asking Minho up front for money every night; more often than not he  _ forgets _ about it, which probably means  _ something _ because Jisung never forgets money. But Minho, at the end of every night, always remembers to shove a few wads of cash into Jisung’s hands before they separate.

As he lets this realisation settle, a frown curves downwards on Jisung’s lips. He suddenly finds himself wondering how strange this arrangement is to an outsider’s point of view. Changbin has endlessly ragged on him about Minho ever since he’d first told his roommate about him, but it never occurred to him to really understand why. It was strange, sure, but, like Minho always tells him—  _ Weird is our brand, so who cares? _ And Jisung would always laugh and accept this, because the more he hears it, the more he enjoys being odd with Minho.

  
  
  


 

— << — 

  
  
  


 

It was another night, and Jisung had managed to clock off work early, at exactly 11 PM, thanks to switching some hours with Jeongin. Minho, of course, was waiting by the time he steps out of the cafe. Together, they’d caught a midnight screening of some foreign romance movie - neither of them had been particularly stoked for or looking forward to it, but it was the only one showing at that hour.

“Did you like the movie, hyung?” Jisung asks afterwards. The two of them had ended up driving around, eventually settling on parking somewhere close to the Han River while eating convenience store food.

Minho shrugs. “Did you?”

“I—” Jisung laughs, before admitting, “—kinda fell asleep for a bit halfway through.” 

Minho snorts. “I noticed, actually. You want to go home?”

“No!” Jisung is quick to protest, not exactly in a hurry to end the night just yet. “We have a couple more hours left, don’t we?”

“You really want to earn your keep, huh?”

Minho’s tone is playful and teasing, but the implication of his words stings, just a little. Jisung, however, is good at letting that hurt slide off his thick skin. He laughs, and smugly declares, “Easy money is easy money.”

“Romance movies bore me,” are the next words out of Minho’s mouth, right after he finishes a piece of cheesy bread. “I deal with it enough at work, and—” he shrugs, like he isn’t sure if there’s much more he can say about it.

“That’s true,” Jisung muses. “Sometimes I forget that romance is a part of your livelihood.” He gathers his legs up, and casually rests his feet against the dashboard of Minho’s car.

“And  _ that’s _ rude,” Minho scolds him, but there isn’t any bite to his tone, so Jisung boldly grins and continues doing what he’s doing. Minho shakes his head fondly, and moves to adjust the driver’s seat comfortably. “Marriage is a stupid construct, but weddings cost a lot of money, so it’s a good way to make a living.”

“Is that all you think of it?” Jisung straightens up and drops his feet back on the floor. “I think it’s a sweet idea. Marriage— isn’t it mostly about companionship at its core? If there’s someone you love, someone you’re truly in love with, wouldn’t you want to cement that bond?”

Minho laughs, loud, but strained. “I didn’t realise you were a closet romantic, Jisung-ah.”

“Does believing in marriage make me a romantic?” Jisung chortles. “If so, then I guess…? Maybe I am?” And then he snorts, because this is another thing that he hasn’t really given much thought before. “You really think it’s stupid, hyung?”

“If it was all about companionship, then shouldn’t everyone be allowed to marry?” Minho shoots back. “I don’t think it’ll happen but— even if I wanted to get married, I wouldn’t be able to. Isn’t that dumb? Marriages are first and foremost for convenience, but personally I think it’s more convenient to just be responsible for yourself.”

Jisung hums. “That’s a bleak take you have there, hyung.” And then he pauses, turning to study Minho’s expression as he sips on his chocolate milk. “Have you ever been in love?” He finds himself asking.

“What?!” Minho laughs again, that same, strained laugh that makes a part of Jisung sad, for some reason. “What’s that got to do—? I don’t know. Maybe? I’ve had boyfriends before.”

“That’s not the same!”

Minho pauses, as if to think it through, but he doesn’t stop for long enough. “Why does it matter?”

Jisung shrugs. “I’m curious.”

“Have  _ you?” _

“I’ve never thought about it,” Jisung admits freely, which makes Minho laugh; this time it’s the kind of laugh that’s Jisung’s favorite to hear from him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Minho comments, fond and amused.

“Maybe you’ll fall in love with me,” are the next thoughtless words that come out of Jisung’s mouth.

He freezes for a second after he hears his own words, but he pushes past that and forces himself to turn and look at Minho’s reaction. The older is staring at him, eyes blinking - once, twice, thrice. He knows by now that this is a habit Minho has whenever he’s quietly observing, or when he needs to carefully process something.

And then Minho laughs  _ yet again, _ and Jisung feels relaxed. 

“You wish, huh?” Minho retorts, picking up his milk carton and drinking from it until it’s empty. 

“Are you saying it’s impossible?” Jisung asks boldly, grinning as if he’s making light of the question; there’s a tightening in his chest that he can’t quite describe, however.

“My best friend is in love with someone he thinks he’s going to marry,” is what Minho says. Jisung would scoff at how expert Minho is at changing topics, but the truth is that he’s even more easily distracted.

“What?” He asks. “That Seungmin guy?”

Minho nods. “He’s been with this guy for a little over half a year— but he’s been secretly pining and in love for at least four years,” Minho explains, and as he talks, there’s a certain fondness in his tone, mixed with something that Jisung recognises as mild frustration. “I’m pretty sure he’s willing to marry this guy abroad, given the chance.”

“Hyung…?” Jisung frowns. “Are you about to tell me that you’re secretly in love with Seungmin-ssi?”

And then Minho gives him an expression that looks so horrified, and Jisung can’t help but crack up. 

“No, what the fuck—?” Minho cringes, and shakes his head. 

“That’s where it sounded like this was going!” Jisung argues defensively; truth, though, is that there’s a certain kind of relief that washes over him as soon as he realises he’s wrong in his assumption.

“No, I’m not in love with  _ Seungmin-ssi,” _ Minho says, mocking the way Jisung uses honorifics with his best friend. “It’s just more… I guess I’m saying  _ he _ know what it is to be in love— isn’t that what we were talking about?” 

They turn and look at each other, both of them tracing the trajectory of their conversation in their heads; and then they both start laughing at the exact same moment.

“I guess—” Minho sighs, once their laughter has died down. “It’s just weird because I’ve known Seungmin for a long time, and we’ve shared most things and people. Even his family has always felt like my family, and it was the same with my family and him?” 

Jisung nods, just listening. Usually, he was the one talking a lot between the two of them, with Minho often just reacting. He finds that he’s always extra eager whenever Minho has anything to share.

“Even though we’ve both dated others before, I guess… Hyunjin is the first time that someone has really felt…  _ his?” _ Minho cringes, as if embarrassed by what’s coming out of his mouth. Jisung gestures for him to continue, but Minho shakes his head. “I’m genuinely happy for him, so whatever,” He looks down and busies himself with dusting bread crumbs off his shirt. “By the way,” he continues, in a tone that Jisung recognises as him about to change topics. “It’s almost 4, Jisungie.”

This time, however, Jisung doesn’t allow himself to be distracted as he looks Minho directly in the eyes. “Hyung,” he begins, his tone soft, but earnest.  _ “I’m _ someone you don’t have to share with Seungmin-ssi.”

  
  
  


 

— >> — 

  
  
  


 

Jisung finds Minho by himself outside the reception area, fingers twiddling with an unlit cigarette.

“Hey, hyung,” he greets, approaching somewhat cautiously. “Whatcha doing there? Aren’t you supposed to be quitting that?” He gestures at the cigarette. “Besides, this is a no smoking area.”

Minho quickly pockets the stick, straightening up and nodding at Jisung as a greeting. “I wasn’t going to light it up, anyway.”

Jisung moves to stand next to him, smiling slyly and bumping hips with the older. “Hey, hyung,” he starts, only to trail off into silence because he’s not sure why he’s even out here when he should be back inside, working and earning his hourly. 

“Hmm?” Minho looks at him a tiny smile curved on his own lips.. “You want to know a secret about the bride and groom?”

“What secret?” He asks immediately, because celebrity gossip, as Minho probably expected, easily piques his interest. 

The newlyweds in question are Park Jinyoung and Bae Suzy, both drama actors slowly on the rise within the industry. They had starred in a movie together around a year ago, and they had confirmed their status as a couple a few months after the the film’s theatrical release.

“They dated for years before they were in that movie together,” Minho shares. “They actually broke up right before they started filming the movie, and got back together when they were promoting — and then they made it appear that they started dating at the start of filming.”

“Oh,” Jisung blinks. He isn’t really a fan of either of the two, but he does vaguely remember hearing news about this since entertainment gossip makes up half of the conversations he has with Felix and Jeongin during their quiet night shift.

“Ah, also, Suzy-nim is pregnant,” Minho adds, like he’s sharing a simple fact. “But that’s going to be obvious to everyone soon enough.”

_ “Oh.” _

Minho laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t go running your mouth off to Jeongin and Felix,” he warns Jisung, as if he’s just read his mind.

“But!” Jisung protests. “They won’t tell anyone!”

“You can tell them you always knew once the news is out,” Minho says, elbowing his side when Jisung pouts on purpose. The expression draws a smile out of Minho, at least, which Jisung, of course, half expected.

“Fine,” he huffs. “I’ll do my best to keep my mouth shut.”

“Good,” Minho nods, reaching up to pat him on the head. “I know that’s a hard task for you.”

“Hyung!” Jisung groans, slapping Minho’s hand away, their combined laughter echoing around them. “Hyung,” he repeats with a sigh several seconds later, after he’s caught his breath after laughing. “I’m sorry about what Changbin-hyung said earlier.”

Minho hums as if he’s clueless about what he means. Jisung takes note as Minho takes his cigarette out of his coat pocket again, fiddling with it just like he was doing before Jisung had joined him. 

“That’s not how I talk about you with him,” he finds himself explaining. “That’s not how I refer to you, I promise.”

“So you talk about me to your friends, huh?” Minho comments, mischief evident in his eyes. “I’m flattered.”

_ “Hyung,” _ Jisung whines. “That’s not what I’m saying!”

“But that’s what I’m hearing—” Minho counters.

“Hyung,” Jisung repeats, this time more firmly. “Please listen to me.”

“Okay, I’m listening.” Minho turns and looks at him, his gaze so intense that Jisung feels even smaller than he already is.

Jisung clears his throat, and takes a deep breath as if to build his confidence back up. “My rates have gone down,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“I’m giving you a discount, hyung,” he continues, and Minho only laughs. “An hour costs approximately zero thousand KRW now.”

“I see,” Minho nods slowly -  _ too _ slowly, as if he’s deliberately working on appearing unaffected.

“Hyung, come on,” Jisung whines, frowning. “I’m trying to tell you that I don’t spend time with you because of the money.”

“Are you also saying that you’re going to return everything I’ve paid you so far?” Minho asks, his tone mildly challenging.

Jisung balks, just a little. He thinks about his bank account, and how much fatter it is, now, thanks to easy nights, just talking his heart out with Minho. He thinks about how much closer his dream is to becoming a reality, and then he lets out a sigh. “I mean, I— I haven’t spent most of it so I suppose I can,” he mumbles, closing his eyes as he forces himself to let go of all that money. 

Minho laughs, and Jisung opens his eyes again to stare at him. 

“You don’t have to,” Minho murmurs, fingers running through his hair as he looks down at his shoes. “I know you’ve been saving up for art school.”

Jisung looks at him with confusion. “How do you know that—?” He knows he’s talked about his art with Minho, but he doesn’t think he’s mentioned it past being a simple hobby or interest. He thinks he’s talked about buying art supplies, at most.

“Because I listen, Jisung,” Minho points out, giving him a small smile when their eyes meet again. “One time, we were walking around the neighborhood, and you pointed out this massively ugly sculpture, and then you just… kept rambling about how the person who made it went to some art school in London, and you got all excited. It was weirdly… uh—” He looks away, trailing off mid-sentence as if he needs to rethink his sentence. “It was just fascinating, I guess. To say the least. And you’re kind of working all these odd jobs, as if you need to save up for something big, and I kind of just— I put together everything I know about you.”

“Oh.” A strange feeling washes over Jisung; he isn’t sure how to describe it, all he knows is that it feels nice. His face feels warm, and a persistent smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Well,” he coughs. “I’ll still give the money back, anyway.”

Minho chuckles and nudges Jisung’s side. “You don’t have to. I’ll consider it an investment.”

“I don’t want to be an  _ investment,” _ Jisung answers immediately, without really giving his words much thought.

“Yeah?” Minho arches an eyebrow at him. “What do you want to be, then?”

This time, the question actually gives him pause. 

“Uh,” he blinks rapidly, a habit that he thinks he’s picked up from Minho, maybe. “Friends?”

Minho snorts, and then he’s laughing, and Jisung is joining him.

“You really don’t have to give me back a single cent,” Minho insists. “Consider it help from a friend, if you want.”

Jisung stares, and he knows that there’s no way Minho is backing down from this. “Fine,” he grumbles; if Minho is willing to let go of that much money, then he supposes he should be willing to keep it. “But you’re  _ not _ my sugar daddy,” he declares.

“Don’t worry, if I was taking on a sugar baby, it’d be someone way cuter than you,” Minho answers.

“Tch,” Jisung scoffs, punching Minho’s arm in faux-anger. “And when we hang out tonight, I’m paying for food.”

“Oh?” Minho smirks. “I have expensive taste, you know.”

“Hyung, please!” Jisung sticks his tongue out at Minho, like he’s six years old, instead of twenty-six. “I bet you’ll love the soondae this ajumma sells at this stall close to my apartment.”

“What I’m hearing here is that you’re inviting me over,” Minho points out.

“Well, if you want to come over—”

“Now  _ you’re _ propositioning me—”

“Hyung—!”

They both erupt into more laughter, and they keep going, practically running out of air, until Changbin’s loud, nasal voice cuts through their noise, as he calls for Jisung to go back inside for work.

  
  
  
  


 

_ tbc. _


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] I hope the narrative timeline isn't confusing; Just note that the Minsung nights tend to be flashbacks. The dividers are sort of an indicator of whether it's back in time (<<) and whatnot. Anyway, hope you're all still enjoying this!

  
  
  
  


“The two of you must lead such romantic lives,” the interviewer from Wedding21 comments, only to get a choked up laugh from Seungmin and a curt smile from Minho.

“I’m not sure it works like _that,_ really,” Seungmin says, obviously trying to be diplomatic with his words.

“I’m _pretty_ sure it doesn’t work like that,” Minho interjects. “Our love lives don’t have anything to do with how we run our business, I’d like to think.”

Beside him, Seungmin lets out a soft, barely audible sigh. Minho is aware that Seungmin wants to sell the idea of romance, which in a way makes sense considering they run a _wedding_ business. Minho isn’t keen on that idea though, and he never has been.

This magazine interview, he could have done without, but he agreed to do it because Seungmin convinced him that it would be great advertising. It’s true that they have a pretty solid clientele - they’ve made a name for themselves amongst Seoul’s elite, and they’re the ones who can afford lavish weddings that bring in the big bucks. That’s what’s important to Minho.

Seungmin, on the other hand—  he really _is_ a bit of a romantic at heart. He wants to expand the business, because he wants to let people know that they can have their customized dream weddings, and that they don’t have to settle for the package deals that wedding halls offer. And because Seungmin is important to Minho, and business and business, he acquiesces to the interviewer. To  be fair, it _would_ be good publicity, and in a lot of ways it would also be validation for the hard work that has gone into making their business successful for the last two years.

Still, he can barely sit still as the interviewer asks them what Minho deems to be completely mundane questions. For the last half hour, he’s been mostly letting Seungmin do the talking, but he’s getting bored now.

“We’re good at what we do, because we’re creative and we’re efficient,” he continues. “It has nothing to do with whether or not we have romance in our lives.”

“Ah, should I take that to mean that both of you are very eligible bachelors then?” The woman laughs, and Minho can tell that she’s trying to _flirt,_ which he finds ridiculous - especially since neither he nor Seungmin swing that way.

“You’re just putting words in our mouths now,” Minho retorts, practically through gritted teeth.

Beside him, Seungmin reaches over to touch his arm - a gesture for him to calm down before he gets too worked up.

“I _am_ seeing someone,” Seungmin shares, “But I think my partner is right. That hasn’t got anything to do with how we work. We’re good at taking a couple’s love, and using that love to celebrate their union in ways that are special and unique for each couple. It doesn’t matter if we have romance in _our_ lives, as long as there is romance in the engaged couple’s lives.”

That isn’t really it either, Minho thinks. Weddings are just big parties, and anyone with good attention to detail can throw a great party, he thinks. (Marriage is a completely different beast, but he and Seungmin are done with their jobs once _that_ and the issues that go with it come into play anyway. But if this is the narrative that Seungmin wants to sell then he’ll bite his tongue and let him speak for both of them.

“Well, that was a trip,” Minho mumbles, once the interview is over and done with, and the writer they’d been talking to has exited their office.

“It was good—”

“Good publicity, I know,” Minho finishes for Seungmin with a sigh. He’s heard his friend argue this way too many times the last few weeks. “Anyway—” Minho winces; he’s itching to just move on from that God forsaken interview already. “Did you hear?”

“About what?” Seungmin glances at him while he boots his laptop.

“The Jung-Park divorce,” Minho shares; he heard this recently through the so-called social grapevine, it’s just that he’s forgotten all about it until now, when he has reason to distract Seungmin.

Jung Jinwoon and Park Yeeun were one of their first clients when Minho and Seungmin had officially launched their business. The account had brought them minor fame and recognition as the pair had enjoyed a certain level of celebrity as both of them were digital powerhouse musicians, and so a few news outlets had covered the affair.

“What?” Seungmin’s head quickly snaps towards Minho; a frown is lining his features, which actually has Minho feeling somewhat guilty for being the bearer of bad news. His memories of that particular wedding mostly revolve around how so much work was put into their vegan menu and their hipster beach wedding where they’d required fresh flower wreaths for everyone in the wedding party; Seungmin, meanwhile - well he _did_ have a few choice judgmental words for them too during the prep and planning, but ultimately, and Minho remembers this accurately, by the end of the ceremony, Seungmin was just gushing about how they helped create something perfect and personal for a couple clearly in love.

Except, with this, it makes them the 6th couple among their clients to have divorced over the last two years.

“Yeah,” Minho confirms. “I hear they’d filled out the papers, so it should be out on news portals soon enough, I guess.”  

Minho doesn’t really care much - or at least that’s what he tells himself. It hardly affects the business they’ve built, especially since the wedding is long over. The first time former clients of theirs had separated, he even joked, “Maybe if they get married again to other people, they’ll call us to plan their next weddings.” Seungmin, though - he _cares._

He sighs at the news, and normally, Minho would be a bit more accommodating of his best friend’s feelings. Today, however, he doesn’t really feel like mincing his words.

“I mean— we both saw this coming,” he points out. “Or I did, anyway. They both had really pretentious sticks up their asses. Plus, 36% of marriages here end in divorce so… they had roughly one in three chances of lasting to the end. Not very good odds.”

“Hyung…” Seungmin shoots him a glare. “Even pretentious people can be in love, too.”

“Well then, guess you can file this one under the Love is Dead folder too.”

“Geez, hyung—” Seungmin rolls his eyes. “What’s eating you? I thought you’d be a bit more open to all the romance stuff, what with things between you and Jisung going so well.”

Minho frowns. “Excuse me?”

“You and that Jisung guy— he’s all you ever talk about these days, hyung, so I assumed—” Seungmin shrugs.

“He’s a _friend,”_ Minho interrupts his best friend a little too quickly - a little too _defensively._

“Ah, so nothing’s going on there?” Seungmin asks; he looks genuinely confused. “What, he’s not your type or something? Is that why you haven’t closed the deal, yet?” He laughs, and Minho realises that to Seungmin, Jisung just seems like another one of Minho’s flings - of which he’s had countless of in the past.

“Seungmin,” Minho grunts, picking up a thick binder off his desk and setting it down on Seungmin’s after he strides across the room. “We have a lot of work to do, and Jisung isn’t involved in said work.”

Seungmin huffs, and grumbles under his breath, “Well you’re the one who is _always_ talking about him, but okay.” He does open the binder though, so Minho pretends not to have heard anything - easier to end the topic that way.

The truth is that Jisung _is_ his type. _Was_ his type? Either way, Minho has always found Jisung attractive and interesting - this is how and why he’d gotten involved with the younger man to begin with. So maybe his original intention _had_ been to hit on him - but then getting involved with him in any sexual capacity just felt awfully grimy after an exchange of cash was made. Besides, Jisung did turn out to be an amusing person all around; there was something so genuine about Jisung that Minho always felt he was a simpler, but better version of himself whenever they hung out together at night.

Now that there’s no more money exchange involved - _now_ it also feels like he knows Jisung too well. It feels as if he _likes_ Jisung too much as a _person,_ as if there’s too much to lose and too much to gain, depending on what move he makes.

His phone suddenly buzzes loudly, distracting Minho from his reverie. When he checks who it is, it makes him chuckle softly because it’s almost as if Jisung had sensed that Minho was thinking about him because there’s a sudden barrage of messages from _handsomej1._

“Hyung,” the first message reads. “Hyung! Hyung hyung hyung!!!!!!!”

 _He’s like an excitable kid,_ Minho thinks to himself, unable to keep a smile from forming on his lips.

Jisung has also sent a bunch of pictures - the first one being a litter of kittens which immediately has Minho’s curiosity piqued. Just the other night, he had confessed to thinking about adopting a cat.

“I’ll be the guy with the half a dozen cats,” he had told Jisung, only really half joking. “You hear people talking about crazy cat ladies who grow old alone, just with their cats— well, ladies don’t have a monopoly on this!”

“You think you’re going to grow old alone, hyung?” Jisung had asked immediately.

“Wow, that’s your main takeaway from what I said?” Minho laughed, shaking his head and pinching Jisung’s cheek because the younger had looked a little too genuinely bothered at the thought.

“You aren’t going to grow old alone, hyung,” Jisung answered, as if to make him feel better, except his tone makes it sound like more than simple lip service.

“Well—” Minho had felt something strange brewing at the pit of his stomach, but as usual, he’d been able to ignore it. Minho is nothing if not good at ignoring things like that. “I’m going to have my cats, so obviously I won’t be alone,” he said, laughing like it was all a joke.

When Jisung laughed along like that was what he meant as well with his statement, Minho hadn’t known how to feel. Just like he doesn’t know how to feel about the pictures and messages Jisung has just sent.

‘thought of u!’ is the caption of one picture he took, one that featured him cradling a cute tri-color kitten in his arms. Squeezed into the frame next to him is someone Minho easily recognises as Felix, one of the other baristas at Soul Cup, a gray cat in _his_ arms.

Jisung’s messages keep arriving, one after another before Minho can even respond to any:

‘had rare free time 2day!’  
‘volunteered w felix at shelter!’  
‘next time u should come’  
‘u can adopt one of the cats maybe’  
‘this one looks like u’  
‘could b ur new sibling kkkk’

  
  


 

— << —

  
  


 

“Speaking of cats,” Jisung says, almost looking like a literal light bulb went on in his head. “Mr. Future Crazy Cat Dude— you kinda remind me of them— or? They remind me… of you?” And just like that, his enlightened expression disappears, replaced with a confused, thoughtful one.

The quick change on his face makes Minho laugh, which has Jisung pouting even more at him. It was a night that had the two of them are sitting together at a park near Minho’s apartment after having played a one-on-one game of basketball where neither of them had particularly excelled.  

“Aren’t you at least going to _ask_ why?” Jisung inquires in between stuffing his mouth with butter cookies.

“Okay—” Minho snorts; he figures he’ll bite, if only because Jisung looks like he’s itching to explain his statement. “Tell me, then. Why do cats remind you of me— or why I remind you of cats?”

“First, it’s these—” Jisung puts down the pack of cookies that he’s holding, so he can reach over with both hands and tap at the corner of Minho’s lips. “Your mouth— it curls up the way a cat’s does,” he explains, chuckling - _giggling,_ almost. Minho winces and wraps his hands around Jisung’s wrists to push them away, but Jisung keeps on going anyway, “Your eyes feel similar too— you get so, um—” Jisung shakes Minho’s hold off his wrists so he can reach for another butter cookie before continuing, “—watchful? Observant? Sometimes you get really quiet and you just… _watch me._ It’s almost unnerving—”

“And yet you never seem fazed,” Minho interrupts with a laugh.

“Sssh, hyung!” Jisung, in his usual unfazed fashion, shushes him; he wags a finger and quickly swallows the food in his mouth with the help of a gulp of water and then, “You also kind of act like a cat, hyung. Like— before I _knew_ knew you, the way you were as a customer, always sitting by yourself in a corner of the cafe. You always seemed distant. Also a bit prickly— good looking but prickly. Like cats look soft, but they’ll scratch at you if you approach them and they don’t like you—” Jisung laughs. “But like most cats, once someone finds your soft spot, you’re…” And then he trails off, snickering while Minho watches him with a hardened expression.

“I’m…?”

Jisung shrugs and doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stuffs his mouth with another cookie, while keeping a smug grin on his face. Minho rolls his eyes, and in retaliation, he simply snatches the cookie bag out of Jisung’s hands. The latter gawks at him, but he’s already looking away, trying to appear casual, even though in his mind he’s actually trying to dissect the meaning of Jisung’s words.

Did the other male think he’d found Minho’s soft spot? It makes him cringe, thinking of it, so he grabs a cookie to munch on while he tries to come up with a way to steer the conversation towards a different direction - he’s usually very good at this, but right now, at this moment he’s actually having a tough time.

“I had cats when I was a kid,” he ends up sharing; he doesn’t know why, but they’ve been talking about cats all evening so far.

Okay, so maybe he knows _why_ because he’d been the one to bring it up, with his half-joking dreams of one day becoming a crazy cat man, but then Jisung had started rambling about him and cats, and now he would really rather just _move on,_ but Jisung has this annoying effect on him, he supposes, where his thoughts get all jumbled, and it gets harder than usual to compartmentalize.

“Oh! Maybe that’s why you’re like a cat, hyung—” Jisung teases, tongue sticking out at him as he tries to grab his cookies back, even as Minho keeps holding it out of his reach. “Hyung, please!” He cries out, practically falling across Minho’s lap when he makes a far grab.

“Stop—” Minho laughs and finally hands the food back. “Also, that doesn’t even make sense,” he adds, referring to the younger’s latest statement. Although, as he runs the idea through his head again, _maybe_ it does? “Okay, but they were kind of my family starting at an early age, so—” He laughs some more, and shakes his head in disbelief at himself for even entertaining Jisung’s ridiculous notions.

“Your family? You mean _with_ your family, right, hyung?” Jisung clarifies while happily finishing off the contents of his cookie bag.

Minho hums noncommittally; he actually _does_ mean his family because even before he met Seungmin, those cats were like siblings to him. He doesn’t have memory of when Doongie came into his life, but his mother tells him that they adopted her as a kitten when Minho was only a year old. Soonie came a couple of years later, when he was three.

By the time Minho was thirteen, if you asked him who the three most important individuals in his life were, he would have said: Seungmin, and his two cats, no question. His parents were only an afterthought - which of course a lot of people would have found strange, but by the time he was thirteen, Minho was also well aware that he had a different way of thinking compared to most. Besides, as much as he and his parents cared for each other, there was always a feeling of detachment between them, even when he was a kid. He used to assume that was normal - after all, there was also that kind of very obvious detached feeling between his mother and father.

“Hyung—?” Jisung waves a hand in front of Minho’s face. “You spaced out on me there.”

“Huh? Oh—” Minho blinks slowly, before letting out a chuckle. “Sorry,” he says, obviously still a little distracted when he cautiously admits, “I was thinking about my parents.”

“Oh? Suddenly missing them?” Jisung asks with a grin. “Where do they live…?”

Minho laughs and just lightly shakes his head; his parents live a couple of neighborhoods away, in the same district, and if he wanted to visit them, he could do it anytime - he just wasn’t in any hurry to. Conversely, it’s not as if they were clamoring to have him over. He doesn’t think this is proof that he has a bad relationship with them, either - it’s just… how things _are._

He likes to think of himself as a filial son - he goes home for the important holidays, and he has always held both his mother and father in high regard. They also raised him well, giving him anything and everything he needed in life - but everything, from his relationship to them, to their relationship with each other always felt like there was work being put into it. If Minho really thinks about it, he might maybe trace a majority of his issues with love and marriage, to how he’s seen his parents’ own relationship worked as he grew up - but he doesn’t, and every time the concept even remotely crosses his mind, he’s quick to shake it all off, especially since it’s all so painfully cliche anyway, and he's sure that a lot of other people have more meaningful issues than he and all his privileges have.

“They’re in Gaepo,” he answers Jisung.

“Hyung… that’s practically next door to you,” Jisung points out, his tone almost scolding.

“I’ll see them when holidays come around.” Minho shrugs, before looking at Jisung and realising something. “Wait, what about your parents?”

It’s strange, how much they’ve talked, and how much they’ve learned about each other over the last few months - like Minho knows every single detail of Jisung’s first kiss (with a girl, behind the school gym, when he was fourteen), and Jisung knows what the last three documentaries Minho had watched were about (serial killers, clown puppets, and catfishing, respectively, in that order from most recent to least) - but this is the first time either of them has really inquired about each other’s family.

“Oh! My Dad’s in Malaysia,” Jisung explains, shrugging as if it’s not a big deal that his father is in a different country altogether. “I see him once every one or two years. He’s a missionary there— actually I lived there for a couple of years when I was younger.” He grins as if he’s remembering fond memories. “But I was really young, like five? Six? And then he and my mom divorced so me and my hyung moved back here to South Korea with our mother—”

“Thirty-six percent,” Minho finds himself muttering at Jisung’s revelation. He’s honestly a little surprised that Jisung comes from, for lack of better wording, a broken home - he never would have guessed, with how seems so bright… and _well-adjusted._

“Eyng?” Jisung glances at him. “What was that, hyung?”

Minho gives him a tight-lipped smile and gestures with his hand for the younger to continue.

“Ah, well—” He shrugs, and then, like there hadn’t been any form of interruption at all, he continues. “When I was twenty, she remarried— she’s living happily in Daegu now, with my stepdad and my half sister. I see them on holidays, too. Or, sometimes, just because— when I feel like it.” Jisung pauses, looking like he’s trying to remember anything else; he laughs, and then he turns to flash a grin at Minho. “Oh! They have a dog, too— but between you and me—” He leans closer and playfully wiggles his eyebrows, “I prefer cats a lot more.”

Minho snorts back laughter; for some reason he feels heat rushing up his cheeks at Jisung’s words, but he chases it off by clearing his throat and pretending to brush some cookie crumbs off the collar of his shirt.

“Do your parents know you’re aiming for art school abroad?” He asks, once he feels the heat start to fade.

“Hmm? Oh!” Jisung looks like he’s surprised to have that be brought up again. He shrugs, “They’ll find out when it becomes a reality.”

Minho arches an eyebrow. “You haven’t thought of asking them for help?”

Jisung grimaces. “You know I didn’t finish my degree in computer engineering, right?”

Minho nods - this much, he knows. Jisung has mentioned it in passing before, funnily, during a night they’d spent at a PC bang. (“I had a classmate with a degree in computer engineering, and now he works for a chain of PC bangs, making sure that they have updated computers or something— I don’t think that’s what he had in mind when he went through four years of that but whatever,” he had shared.)

“My Dad was paying for that— and then I dropped out, so I don’t really want to burden him with any more financial problems because it was _my_ choice not to finish that degree,” Jisung explains with a sigh. “And my Mom— well, she has a new family now. My little sister is really cute! And she deserves everything she can offer right now. My brother— he offered to help, but—” Jisung shakes his head. “He’s working in Japan now, and he doesn’t really owe me anything so I told him I’ll work on it on my own.”

“So you’d rather work all these minimum wage odd jobs and take forever saving up, than ask your family?” Minho doesn’t mean to sound shrewd, but maybe a hint of judgment slips through his tone anyway.

“Hyung—” Jisung either doesn’t mind, or it’s completely lost on him, because he flashes a grin at Minho right away. “If I wasn’t working all these minimum wage odd jobs, and taking forever to save up, then we wouldn’t have met, would we?”

  
  


 

— >> —

  
  


 

Minho stares at the pictures and messages that Jisung has sent him, repeatedly scrolling up and down, reading and rereading them, unsure how to respond. There’s a persistently vexing feeling that’s brewing at the pit of his stomach every time he swipes by the couple of photos that features Felix as well.

He refuses to acknowledge it as jealousy because what is there to be jealous about?

He also hates that Jisung’s repeated proclamations about how one of the cats looks like him, is making him smile because _what is there to smile about?_

He shifts around in his seat over and over, until he hears Seungmin deliberately clearing his throat.

“Hyung—” His friend hisses at him from across the room. “Is something wrong?”

“No—” He immediately answers; for good measure, he even adds a laugh. “Just a funny joke Jisung sent.” Seungmin shoots shim a strange look, and Minho mentally berates himself for even mentioning it had anything to do with Jisung. “It’s nothing, Seungminnie,” he waves off the other. “Go back to work.”

Seungmin mumbles something under his breath, but Minho consciously chooses to ignore it. If he asks, then Seungmin will answer, and he has a guess that whatever it is will just end with him having to deal with inquiries about Jisung, and if Minho actually knows _anything_ it’s that he doesn’t have answers at all when it comes to the younger male.

 _Maybe things were simpler,_ he finds himself thinking, _when he had the hourly rate of 30,000 KRW._ It’s not just that _he_ knows too much Jisung - now it’s dawning on him that Jisung also knows too much about _him_ and that’s terrifyingly unsettling.

‘kkkk,’ he ends up sending to jisung in the end. ‘u and felix look good together.’

 _Lee Minho,_ he mentally berates himself, groaning and almost throwing his phone away after he hits send because he's painfully aware of how passive aggressive he just was. _You’re a jackass,_ he thinks to himself. _And a big fat idiot._

  
  
  


 

 **handsomej1:** ?????????? what does that mean??           _ 3:42 PM, SEEN  _

 

 

 

 

 

 

_tbc._


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] Decided on a back-to-back double update because I actually finished 5 and 6 over the lunar new year, and also...

  
  
  
  
  


Jisung sighs heavily, not for the first time that evening. This, of course, earns him a curious glance from Felix, and a frustrated grunt from Jeongin - they both get ignored by Jisung, who simply keeps on glancing at his phone whenever there isn’t a customer to serve. Which meant that he was on his phone 80% of the time.

“Hyung, is something bothering you?” Jeongin finally asks after they serve a small group of three university students with their drinks and pastries. 

“Nah—” Jisung initially answers, but no further prodding is needed before he shakes his head to contradict his own answer. “Yes, actually. Hyung isn’t here yet?” He says it like it’s a question, but the answer is obvious to all of them anyway, as the corner table usually occupied by the older male has been empty for hours.

“Hyung? Minho-ssi?” Felix clarifies, even though all of them are also obviously already clear on this.

Jisung chews on his bottom lip, looking distracted even when he nods in response; he’s glancing at his phone and sighing  _ yet again. _

“Geez, hyung, lovelorn isn’t a look that suits you,” Jeongin comments with a snort. “Cheer up, I’m sure your sugar daddy will be here before your shift is over.”

Jisung snarls at Jeongin. “Why does everyone keep calling him that?!”

“Oh? How do you want me to say it then?” Jeongin laughs. “Your generous benefactor?”

This time, Jisung not only sneers, but he throws a paper cup at the younger - which Jeongin easily ducks. 

“It’s not like that, okay?” Jisung frowns. It’s been weeks since the last exchange of money between him and Minho, but they’ve continued to spend nights together. He’d even genuinely tried to give Minho most of his money back - an offer that Jisung had been very,  _ very _ hard-pressed to make because he sure did like the look of all those digits on his bank account. Still, he had offered with a hundred percent willingness to push through, assuming that this was courtesy needed in order to make things clearer with Minho. (“Make what things clear, exactly?” Changbin asked when Jisung told him; Jisung had ignored the question.) He had pressed the issue exactly three times, with Minho turning him down each time, and what was he to do? He  _ does _ love money - and he has something important and pricey he needs it for so he eventually stopped trying. 

The last few weeks have been very good, too. In some ways, it was more of the same - the two of them getting food, finding a place to stay at for hours on end, with them just talking about anything and everything under the stars. In other ways, it was different - slowly, steadily, Jisung was becoming more and more aware of just how much Minho had begun to open up with him, and he found that he really appreciated it, but also that each new personal information he learned about Minho only made him want to know  _ more. _

“What’s it like, then?” Felix asks, looking genuinely curious, unlike Jeongin who always just sounded he wanted to push Jisung’s buttons whenever he mentioned Minho.

“Not like whatever Jeongin is implying,” Jisung grumbles; he earns a confused look from Felix and obnoxious cackling from the youngest. 

“I’m sure he’ll be around soon enough,” Jeongin assures Jisung, this time sounding a bit more sincere, especially with the affectionate squeeze he gives Jisung’s shoulder. “Isn’t he a busy man? Maybe he just got caught up in work— or something.”

He nods, because what else can he do? The truth is, the way Minho has left him on read all evening is bothering him too, but it’s not as if Jisung can think of any reason why there would be tension between them.

Minho’s last message to him  _ had _ been a bit strange, which wouldn’t be so bad because Minho, in general, can be  _ strange _ \- it's already established that Jisung  _ likes _ that about him, except the problem is that it’s a kind of strange that Jisung doesn’t get. And when Jisung had expressed confusion, Minho just opened his message without sending any response in return.

‘hyung, it’s almost end of shift, u coming 2night?’ he sends, after he glances at the time and sees that it’s already forty-three minutes past midnight.

Beside him, Felix affectionately knocks his forehead against his arm right after Jisung hits send on the message. “Is everything okay?” Felix asks, his expression full of earnest concern.

“Heh,” Jisung reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, grinning widely so as to not cause his friend any worry. “Yeah— Jeongin’s right. Hyung probably just got busy with work or whatever. Besides, it’s not like we have concrete plans. Joke’s just on me for assuming he’ll drop by.” True enough, it’s not like they’ve made plans - but it also isn’t as if they’ve ever made concrete plans. The last several months have passed, just them seeing each other almost every night like it’s a standing appointment they have with each other.

He glances at his phone and tries not to frown when he sees that his message has been read, but not replied to.  _ Well, _ he thinks. At least he can be sure that Minho is alive and well if he’s checking messages.

“Jisung—” Worry is still drawn on Felix’s face, which makes Jisung wince; he’s not used to having people get so concerned over him. It makes him nervous, and it makes him  _ think _ a little too hard. “What exactly  _ is _ going on with you and Minho-ssi?”

And there it is, the million dollar question.

It makes Jisung sigh.

“I don’t know, Lix,” he admits.  _ “Something, _ I guess.”

  
  
  
  


 

**leeminh01025:** not coming tonight, sry               _ 12:43 AM _

 

**handsomej1:** oh! 

**handsomej1:** r u busy hyung?

**handsomej1:** tired? sick?

**handsomej1:** or

**handsomej1:** i hope this means u’re actually getting some sleep tonight hyung

**handsomej1:** sweet dreams hyung ^^/*                 _ 12:52 AM, SEEN _

  
  
  


 

— << —

  
  
  


 

This time around, it was a night when they’d chosen to park somewhere in Incheon. They were huddled close together, sitting in the car’s popped trunk, sharing, as usual, convenience store food that Jisung had picked out.

They watched the planes coming and going from the nearby airport, Minho unusually chatty with stories of old travels from his childhood.

“The last time I was on a plane, I was 15,” Jisung admits. “That was the last time that I flew to visit my dad— the few times I’ve seen him over the last several years, he’s been the one visiting here. Not just me, either, but family in general.”

“If you were to choose, the next time you board a plane, where would you go?” Minho asks, and Jisung doesn’t need time to think at all before he has an answer.

“London,”  he says simply.

“Oh, right,” Minho says, nodding as if he should have known to expect that answer. “Art school.”

Jisung blushes; he’s confident about most things but every time this particular dream of his is brought up, he always feels  _ embarrassed, _ for some reason. Pursuing art had felt like a pipe dream for so long, it’s a wonder he even managed to muster enough courage to quit his original degree - not that most people would believe him if he told them this. People have a certain image of him that he’s the type to just go for things he wants without giving his actions much thought - and maybe he’s helped perpetuate this by being as much of a go-getter as he can. This kind of image has given him confidence in most of the things he does in his daily life - he’s learned not to overthink most of his actions, consequences be damned. Still, there are some things that give him pause - and these tend to be the things he  _ really _ wants; this is also why he shies away from actively thinking about, and (even more so) from talking about them.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking down at his bag of chips and shaking it a bit before pouring the remaining crumbs into his mouth directly from the packet. 

“You ever going to show me any of your work?” Minho asks, his tone soft, coaxing. It also makes Jisung feel warm, for some reason.

“Sure,” he answers, huffing as and sitting up straight as if to project confidence. “When I get into art school.”

Minho laughs, and as usual, it makes Jisung smile to hear it. “When will that be?”

“Soon,” he answers. “Hopefully. I sent my application in a couple of days ago.” He hasn’t really told anyone this - not Changbin, not Felix, not his older brother. Not  _ anyone, _ except, now, Minho. “I finally have enough saved up for a year in tuition, and initial living expenses - I think. All that’s left now is to actually get in.”

“Wow,” Minho nudges him, and proceeds to gently pat the back of his head. “Proud of you, Jisung.”

“Heh.” He automatically relaxes under Minho’s touch, and an easy smile graces his features. “Thanks, hyung.” 

“If you need help with—” Minho starts, and Jisung tenses up again; he quickly reaches over and clamps Minho’s mouth with his hand.

“Don’t bring up money, hyung!” He demands, a little too strongly that he surprises even himself. Minho snorts, and then he licks Jisung’s palm, causing the latter to immediately retract his hand. “Hyung!” He whines, wiping his hand on the a laughing Minho’s sleeve. “What was that for!”

“Why are you suddenly so touchy about money?” Minho asks, point blank.

“It’s just—” Jisung bites the inside of his cheek; it’s hard for him to put proper words together sometimes, especially when he has put a lot of thought into what he wants to say. “It’s not like that, hyung. I’m not an investment, and you’re not work.”

Minho sighs. “Apart from that very brief moment when you considered that I might be a serial killer, you didn’t really have a problem ripping me off,” he points out. Jisung isn’t sure about his tone, if he’s being matter-of-fact, or if there’s more to it.

“That was then, okay,” Jisung insists. “That was  _ before.” _

“Before what—?” 

_ Before what? _ The question echoes in Jisung’s head. Minho is using a tone that makes it sound like he’s expecting a specific type of answer and it makes Jisung wince because this is also something that he’s been trying to figure out.  _ Before I got to know you, _ he thinks.  _ Before… everything. _

“Just.  _ Before,” _ he grumbles, looking down and shaking what he knows is a very empty bag of chips, only because he doesn’t want to see Minho in that moment.

He waits for a response - he expects that Minho will maybe laugh and pointedly snark at his loss for words, but there’s nothing except silence. Several seconds pass before curiosity gets the better of him and he timidly lifts his gaze.

“Hyung,” he softly chokes out, a bit disconcerted by the expression on the older’s face that greets him. “You’re doing that thing again,” he mumbles. “You’re just…  _ staring.” _

Minho blinks slowly - once, twice,  _ thrice. _ His silence, coupled with the sudden intensity reflected in his gaze has Jisung feeling uneasy. It’s like Minho is waiting,  _ expecting _ something from him, except Jisung feels as if he hasn’t had enough time to figure out just exactly  _ what _ . It’s unnerving because things with Minho up until now have always been so easy, thoughtless,  _ carefree. _

Jisung shifts in his seat, feeling a certain kind of pressure - he feels like there’s something for him to figure out, but also like there are suddenly so many things at once that he needs to consider and it’s all so overwhelming. Minho starts to open his mouth - maybe to say something, Jisung isn’t sure, and maybe he’ll never know because before any words can come out of them, Jisung is already making his move.

He swoops in - one hand clutching at the front of Minho’s shirt so he can pull the older halfway close - and then his lips are on Minho’s. No hesitation meets the kiss, almost as if Minho had been anticipating exactly this. The older twists his body some so he can face Jisung better, his arm - stronger than it appears - snaking around Jisung’s midsection to pull him closer.

_ Jisung, _ he thinks he hears Minho try to say his name against his lips, but he ignores the call; this isn’t the time for thoughts, so Jisung kisses him harder, teeth digging into Minho’s bottom lip, tongue pushing in to meet his. He tastes like the chocolate cookies they were both snacking on just minutes earlier, sweet,  _ euphoric  _ \- maybe if Jisung takes the time, he can come up with a whole list of adjectives for the way Minho tastes, but again,  _ this isn’t the time for thinking, _ so he just  _ feels. _ And this feels good, feels right,  _ feels fucking great _ and maybe just a little frustrating that they’d never done this before.

He’s somehow halfway straddling Minho by the time they both pull away for some air, one arm circled around Minho’s neck while the latter keeps him steady with an arm around his waist.

“Hyung,” he bellows in between pants, moving in so he can nuzzle against Minho’s neck.  _ Warm, _ he thinks,  _ Minho feels so warm. _ Jisung really, really wants to kiss him again, but he’s unexpectedly overcome with uncharacteristic shyness, which results in him burrowing deeper into the crook of Minho's neck.

“Jisungie—” Minho starts, chuckling softly. “That tickles.”

He whines against Minho’s skin, enjoying the sound of the older’s giggling way too much.

“Hyung,” he repeats, sighing; he’s trying his best to think of what to say - to think of what he  _ wants _ to say, except Minho is distracting him soon enough with kisses to the side of his head. “Hyung,” Jisung whines, pulling away, but only so he can connect his lips with Minho’s again.

_ Hyung, _ he almost says again,  _ Minho hyung— Hyung, hyung, hyung, _ because he’s the only thing running in his mind. He knows there are probably a lot of things he should be considering - like what is going on, why is this happening, what are they - and yet, in true Jisung fashion, he decides to throw away all rational thought. It feels right, and it feels good, and it feels like his mouth is a perfect fit against Minho’s, and that’s more than enough for now.

  
  
  


 

— >> —

  
  
  


 

“Well, you’re home early,” is how Changbin greets Jisung from the couch, when he enters their shared apartment at exactly 2:08 AM.

“You have a messed up definition of early,” Jisung responds, too tired, and not in a particularly great mood.

The older male raises an eyebrow, obviously curious and also perhaps waiting for an explanation - after all it  _ is _ a little early considering he has been normally coming home at roughly 4 or 5 in the morning for the last few months.

“I’m tired,” he grumbles, abruptly kicking his shoes off and just stomping directly towards the direction of his room. “I’m going to sleep.”

Changbin keeps his eyes on him, but he doesn’t press. “Okay, suit yourself,” he says with a shrug. “I’m going to head in, too,” he adds, reaching for the remote control so he can turn the TV off. 

It doesn’t take Jisung five minutes before he’s walking out of his room again, and barging into Changbin’s just as the older is getting into bed.

“I think I ruined things,” Jisung announces with a grimace.

“Huh?” Changbin grunts and sits up again with a heavy sigh; Jisung knows he should feel bad because Changbin has an early day ahead, but he also knows that despite the two of them habitually clowning each other, Changbin is someone he can count on to listen when he needs to talk. 

Jisung makes a mental note to himself that he’s going to owe Changbin after tonight, before he thoughtlessly proceeds to plop himself down on Changbin’s bed.

“I ruined things,” he repeats. “With Minho-hyung.”

“Minho-hyung,” Changbin repeats slowly, a telltale smirk starting to tug at the corners of his lips.

“Don’t say my fucking sugar daddy because I swear to God, Changbin-hyung—” Jisung snarls, too genuinely upset to handle their usual banter.

It works because Changbin’s expression shifts into a more solemn one. “There were things to be ruined?” He asks, cautious in his tone. “You’ve been doing the friends thing… right?”

Jisung nods; Changbin had been the first one he’d told, all happy and proud, after he’d called off the original arrangement with Minho. (“Stop calling him—  _ you know what!” _ He’d declared, all smiles. “We’re friends now. Free of charge!”)

“Okay, so how’d you ruin it? What— did he find out about your shower habits?” Changbin snorts as he subtly makes another attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

“No—” Jisung sighs; normally he’d appreciate a more joking mood, but for once, he just really wants to be straightforward. “It’s been a weird few nights.”

“Weird, how?”

“Well—” Jisung purses his lips, for once trying to coherently put his thoughts together before sharing them. “A couple of days ago, he kept me on read almost all day? And then he didn’t show up at the cafe that evening.”

“Without a word?”

“Well—” Jisung rubs the back of his neck, frustration etched all over his face. “He did message at the last minute— but it was…  _ weird? _ And not like cute, fun weird which is his default—” Changbin snorts at this, but Jisung opts to ignore him, “—just… _ weird _ because it isn’t like him to do that. And then he did the same thing the night after, and then— well, tonight he finally showed up, but he was kind of cold? Okay, maybe not cold—” He’s starting to ramble, like he tends to do, coherent thoughts be damned. “Just— his laughter was different, he wasn’t smiling like he usually does. It all felt forced? And then he left before my shift was over, just like that.”

“Without a goodbye?”

“Well, no— he said ‘Bye, Jisungie,’ and he was smiling, but it— it didn’t feel  _ right.” _

Changbin is staring at him, looking pretty perplexed, and now that Jisung has heard his own explanation come out of his mouth, he has to admit it all sounds ridiculous. For all he knows, Minho just has been really tired and busy, and all things considered, it’s not as if the older actually  _ owes _ him an explanation for his life… right? 

“Maybe he just got himself a girlfriend,” Changbin grunts, to which Jisung responds with a pointed look. “Or a boyfriend,” he amends. “Fuck if I know which way he swings. Either way, maybe he found someone else to keep him company at nights— it’s technically not your job to do that, anyway, especially now that  _ you know.” _

Now that he isn’t being paid for it, is what Changbin is implying. It upsets Jisung - because wasn’t the elimination of money in the equation supposed to bring him and Minho to a more level playing field?

“I kissed him,” he finds himself admitting.

“Oh?” Changbin gives him a weird look. “That’s it? This happened tonight?”

Jisung shakes his head. “Around a week ago. I kissed him, and we made out. And then it happened again the night after— and the night after, and—” He winces, and then he inhales deeply, head hung low.

Changbin gives him an incredulous look. “You think this is what ruined things?”

Jisung shrugs.

“Maybe he just needs time to figure his shit out, Jisung,” Changbin points out. “Because to me, it also sounds like  _ you _ need to figure your own shit out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you ever think about what it means exactly, that you, Han Jisung, the guy who would take fucking money from a child’s hand - turned down a steady income of at least 90,000 KRW  _ per night.” _

“Because!” Jisung whines.  _ “You  _ kept making it sound weird and skeezy.”

“You can blame me if you want, but it’s not like that kind of teasing would have stopped you normally, and you know it.” Changbin shakes his head, and gently knees Jisung’s side. “You started feeling something for this guy, and you know what? It was always fucking obvious from the way you used to talk about him— and when you actually turned down cash because it made you feel off? That clearly only meant one thing.”

_ “What.” _

“That you liked him too much to involve money.” Changbin sighs as if frustrated that he needs to spell it all out for Jisung. “This is a stupid conversation. Why do  _ I  _ have to be the one to insist on your feelings— you, better than anyone should know. Use your brain a little, numbnuts.”

“I can feel your love and friendship from your sweet, sweet words, hyung,” Jisung comments with a huff; admittedly though, as direct as Changbin is being, he  _ is _ helping Jisung realise a few things.

“It’s almost 3,” Changbin groans, attempting to push the younger off his bed. “Let me be. Talk to me again when you figure out your own feelings.”

Jisung sighs. 

“And Jisung,” Changbin follows up. 

“Hm?” He glances at the older even as he forces himself up and off the bed.

“I’m sure you didn’t ruin anything.” Changbin’s tone is softer now, more comforting. “It’s  been a few nights— it hasn’t been that long. But if it’s something that’s really bothering you, then just go and talk to him directly. Just— you know. Make sure you know what you want— to say, and to happen.”

Jisung nods slowly, letting Changbin’s advice slowly settle. 

“Thank you hyung,” he mumbles as he carefully makes his way out of the room.

  
  
  
  


 

_ tbc. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] ...didn't want to make readers wait for another chapter that just featured more emotional dumbassery, lmao. Hopefully we get back on track with the romance and the humor soon enough - esp since we're approaching the end, oop.
> 
> [ ☆ ] I've been writing a whole chapter ahead with all my updates before, but for the first time I have 0 words written for chapter 7 but.. I hope I get to sit on it soon. In the meantime, any questions/comments/suggestions/anger/feedback are welcome! Here, and also through [@s/DMs](http://twitter.com/rainsoundsmp3) or [Curious Cat](http://curiouscat.me/yiminho)!!


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] Happy Valentines Update! ♥

  
  
  
  


“The trend of having wedding hashtags—” Minho snorts and shakes his head; he has just finished creating a new Instagram account for one of their clients. The idea was that all official pictures were going to be uploaded and shared on the official account, but the bride and groom still wanted a unifying hashtag for their guests to use anyway.

‘It would make it easier to go through pictures that the guests take,’ the bride had reasoned; Minho had, of course, wanted to point out that there’s a reason why they were going to hire a professional photographer, but she had looked so excited, and Seungmin had acquiesced before Minho can even say anything.

It’s funny though, because right now it’s Seungmin that’s cringing so hard as they talk about the account.

“You’d think that two lawyers would have more sense than to come up with something as cheesy as—” He winces before continuing, his voice dripping with disapproval, _“Hashtag TaecYuByTheHand.”_

Minho snorts, unable to help himself with the way his friend and partner says it. Their clients, a pair of young, high profile lawyers, Ok Taecyeon and Kim Yubin, had chosen to have a small-ish, tropical themed wedding to be held at a private beach resort in Busan. ‘Private,’ except they still wanted to ‘share’ their joy with the public through social media, anyway. It was ridiculous, but again, it’s business so Minho tries not to be rude about their ideas when talking to them directly.

When it’s just him and Seungmin, it’s a different story altogether.

“Well, Taecyeon-ssi is a _TV lawyer,_ ” Minho points out with a slight snicker.

“Being a TV personality has nothing to do with taste,” Seungmin counters, and Minho can only laugh. “But—” he sighs, and Minho arches an eyebrow because he recognises that as Seungmin’s ‘I believe in Love’ sigh. “It’s their wedding, they’re in love, and if they want to show that through ridiculous hashtags on social media, then— we do our job.”

Minho snorts _again._ “Seungminnie—” He starts, wanting to call his best friend out for contradicting himself, but he’s immediately interrupted.

“Shut it, hyung,” he hisses, and Minho _laughs._

“I haven’t even said anything!”

“I know you too well, I can predict what you were going to say,” Seungmin mutters, almost sounding like a petulant child which briefly takes Minho back to their younger years. “And I think I’m allowed to think they’re ridiculously corny and lacking in taste, while at the same time appreciating their love and wishing them the best.”

“Of course it is,” Minho nods, humming as he continues to finish setting up the account he’d just created. The couple already had their prenuptial photoshoot a week ago, and Hyunjin had sent a few shots that he can upload on the account. Frankly, it’s a task that can probably be easily done and managed by the bride or groom, but apparently social media management is a service that Cherry Cat Connections also offer now. “Seungminnie, do you realise that you’ve turned ridiculously… _soft_ this last year?”

Even as he says it, Minho is aware that his words aren’t exactly accurate. Seungmin has always had a soft side to him - it was just that it was a side that very few people ever saw. Now, Seungmin was more gentle, more forgiving, more... _open._

Frown lines appear on Seungmin’s brow, and he gives Minho a curious, worried look. “What does that even mean?”

“Just— you’re different from how you used to be,” Minho explains, and then he lets out a playful laugh. “You used to be this level of petty,” he chides the younger, grinning as he holds his hand above his head, before moving it down to his shoulder. “Now you’re just this level. It’s weird!”

“Hyung!” Seungmin huffs, giving him a light slap on his arm. Minho continues to cackle, but Seungmin keeps quiet, that Minho’s laughter soon tapers off. “Have I really changed, hyung?” Seungmin asks, his voice soft, and Minho actually feels bad.

“Change isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Seungminnie,” he assures the younger, one arm moving to wrap around Seungmin’s shoulders. “You’re more open now, less uptight— I think that’s a good thing?”

Seungmin scoffs, but now there’s a hint of a smile on his lips, and it makes Minho relax a bit. He really doesn’t think it’s a bad thing, the changes that he’s seen in Seungmin over the last year, but it _does_ make him feel wary - not that he will admit this to his best friend. Having grown up together, they used to be alike in so many ways - they had many of the same habits, mannerisms, opinions. Seungmin has always been his own person, but these little changes in him can’t help but make Minho feel circumspect about their personal dynamics. It’s not even as if the changes in him have made a Seungmin a bad friend - he’s still Seungmin, Minho’s best friend. But where once Minho could easily see him and Seungmin growing old together, steady and unchanging, now he just felt uncertain.

“Hyung,” Seungmin whispers, gently elbowing his side. “I have something to tell you.”

“Oh?” Minho leans away so he can give Seungmin a playfully scrutinizing look.

“It’s about Hyunjinnie.”

“Ah—” Minho chuckles, because _there it is._ He doesn’t want to reduce these changes in his best friend as ones brought on by the existence of one man, but it’s hard to deny that Hyunjin has been a big part in how Seungmin has grown as a person.

 _People change when they’re in love,_ Seungmin actually told him once - and this was before he and Hyunjin had even gotten together. He was referring to early clients, friends of theirs that they’d known as teens; Minho had scoffed then, but now he supposes that he has to admit some truth to Seungmin’s words.

“We’ve been talking about marriage,” Seungmin says softly, chuckling as he suddenly fans his face with his hand.

The way his cheeks have colored would have usually earned a teasing remark from Minho by now, but the latter, for once, needs a few seconds to let the words settle. It’s not like this is the first time he’s heard something similar from Seungmin - like he’d confided to Jisung before, Seungmin has already said it once, in passing. That he’d marry Hyunjin overseas, given the chance. But despite proving how in love his best friend was, that former statement didn’t feel as _real_ as this one did.

 _We’ve been talking,_ Seungmin said. It wasn’t just wishful thinking on his best friend’s part anymore.

“Wait, really?” He takes his arm away, and turns to face his friend completely. “You realise you can’t actually get _married_ here, though?” His words carry a foreign tone; even Minho, who is usually so self-aware, is surprised at how the words come off his tongue. Luckily, it doesn’t seem to register with Seungmin. “Or— are you saying that you’re gonna go and fly to Taiwan to get married?” He adds anyway, trying to sound more teasing in order to bury his skepticism.

“Of course we know, hyung,” Seungmin says, rolling his eyes and lightly punching Minho’s arm. “We know it won't be legally binding but we want to have a small commitment ceremony anyway. Also— if we’re going to get wed overseas, we’ll probably choose Spain.” There’s a twinkle in his eye, and a playfulness in his tone that suggests the last part of the statement is nothing but fantasy, but everything else, Minho can tell Seungmin truly, genuinely means.

“When?” Minho manages to croak out, despite the sick feeling that’s brewing at the pit of his stomach.

He’s glad for his best friend - he truly is. He loves the happiness that’s so evident in Seungmin’s eyes these days. He’s proud of how mature and level-headed Seungmin has become - even though it makes him feel like the shift has made him out to be the petty one in their duo. And Hyunjin is a great guy that Minho likes, _loves_ , even, in his own way - it was hard not to, considering how genuinely sweet and kind the man is.

Still, he doesn’t know how to avoid the anxiety he feels whenever it becomes apparent how serious Seungmin’s relationship with Hyunjin has gotten. It’s a feeling that started out small back when Seungmin first shared with him the news that he and Hyunjin had finally, _officially_ gotten together after years of pining-addled friendship. It started out as something Minho assumed he can easily push down like with most things. He figured that it’d pass soon enough, that he was just concerned for his friend’s heart - but even after it became evident that Hyunjin was nothing but great for Seungmin, it didn’t pass at all. If anything, it became worse - the more he pushed the feeling away, the more it grew, compounded and made worse by everything else going on in his life with his work, and family, rendering him sleepless nights that bled into each other.

“Well, we haven’t really finalised plans, we’re just talking about it,” Seungmin explains, his smile so sweet and bright, and the last thing Minho wants is to take that away. “We’re thinking some time next year though—” His cheeks are still colored a dusty shade of pink, making them look younger than he actually is.

“Happy for you, Seungminnie,” Minho tells him, truly meaning his words despite everything else that he’s feeling. He flashes a smile at his friend, and then he reaches out to pat the back of Seungmin’s head - a habit he’s had ever since they were children.

“Thanks, hyung,” Seungmin says, beaming. “Whenever we end up doing it— Hyunjin and I talked about this, too, actually— will you officiate the ceremony?”

Happiness and pride bubble up Minho’s throat, for once stepping on and taking over the rest of the anxiety he’s feeling. “Idiot,” he tells Seungmin. “Wasn’t that always a given, anyway?”

  
  


 

— <<  —

  
  


 

“I switched with someone from the day shift again,” Jisung announces as he parks himself on the chair across Minho’s. “So I’m free all night!”

“And yet—” Minho squints at him. “You’re here. At the cafe. Where you work.”

It was one of their nights from way back; 11 PM and Minho had just arrived and taken his usual corner table.

“I had nothing better to do,” Jisung shrugs, sounding nonchalant despite the light blush that spreads across his cheeks.

“You’re lying,” Minho deadpans.

“Why else would I be here?”

“Because you would have missed me too much,” Minho shoots back, smug yet somehow nonchalant.

For a moment, Jisung actually looks taken aback and at a loss for words. And then he huffs and leans back in his cushioned seat. “Nope,” he declares. “It’s because I figured _you_ would be too lonely without me. Besides, didn’t want you to look like an idiot waiting for me.”

“You could have messaged,” Minho reminds him; they _had_ already exchanged KaTalk IDs after all, and if he recalls correctly it was for a similar reason that it was originally brought up. He purses his lips - an attempt to hide the persistent smile that keeps tugging at the corners of his lips. “I wouldn’t have waited too long.”

Jisung’s lips curve downwards, and he leans forward, closer to Minho across the table. “You wouldn’t have waited?”

Minho blinks, surprised because Jisung’s face is suddenly so close to his. And then he manages to let out a laugh. “Come on,” he says instead, getting back up to his feet. “If you don’t have to work, then we can go early.”

“Oh—” Jisung glances towards Jeongin and Felix, both of whom were behind the counter, trying to look like they weren’t closely observing Minho and Jisung, even though they weren’t really fooling anyone. “Hey guys!” He grins and waves at his friends, following Minho to his feet. “We’re going now! Have a fun night here! Don’t miss me too much!”

Minho, who is already on his way to the door, gives the baristas a quick nod goodbye. Jisung’s confident words make him laugh, and soon, both of them were stepping out onto the sidewalk.

“Where should we go tonight, hyung?” Jisung asks, buzzing with more energy than usual, presumably because he hadn’t needed to work the late night shift.

“Well— where do you want to do?”

Jisung hums, as if to carefully consider the question. Minho just watches him, amused at the way his expression makes subtle changes while he thinks. Finally, he turns and points at the building across the street?

“Hm?” Minho asks, brow creased.

“I want to see your place, hyung,” Jisung says. “I want to see where you live.”

“What?” He glances at Jisung, surprised. That wasn’t what he was expecting. “Why? There’s nothing there.”

Jisung shrugs. “You asked, and I’ve always been curious.”

“It’s boring.”

“It won’t be to me!” Jisung insists, tugging at his jacket sleeve like an overexcited child who can’t keep still.

“Fine,” Minho gives in finally, chuckling and shaking his head in a resigned but still amused manner. “Come on.” And then he’s leading Jisung across the street, up the building, and the next thing he knows, Jisung is casually looking over his shoulder as he inputs his security code in front of his apartment.

“That’s creepy,” he says, laughing as he makes a show of covering the number pad with a hand.

“Four! Eight! Nine! Four! Two!” Jisung is laughing as he yells out random numbers that are nowhere near Minho’s actual code.

“What are you doing?” Minho asks, half hissing, half laughing; the security system beeps green, and he quickly pushes his door open, practically pushing a laughing Jisung inside. “You’re going to wake my neighbors!”

“Heh—” Jisung just grins in response; he kicks his shoes off by the door way, and then he walks further inside, looking around with slight awe on his face. “Hyung, your place— the apartment I share with Changbin-hyung is barely half the size of this.”

Minho shrugs - he knows his privilege but he isn’t about to apologise for it. He simply follows Jisung as the younger man walks around, inspecting the place. They end up in the kitchen, _of course,_ and Minho holds back a smile because he already knows what Jisung is going to find there.

“Your fridge is empty,” Jisung announces, disappointment clearly etched all over his features.

 _Or not find,_ Minho thinks as he laughs. “I haven’t been to the supermarket in a while,” he confesses.

“But. _Hyung,”_ Jisung whines. “What do we eat, then?!”

“Tch,” Minho scoffs, but he does walk past Jisung to open one of the cupboards instead. “You’re the one who wanted to come _here,”_ he points out, pulling out a box of frosted flakes.

“You don’t have _milk,”_ Jisung says when he sees Minho’s sad offering.

“Take it or leave it.”

“I guess I’ll take it,” Jisung grumbles, quick to snatch the box away.

Minho bites the inside of his cheek, as usual trying not to laugh or show even a hint of smile at Jisung’s antics. “Work’s been busy, so I hardly ever eat at home these days,” he admits. “When I have free time—” When he has free time at night, he’s with Jisung, but he catches himself and that’s not what he says. “When I feel like cooking something specific, that’s only when I go out and buy particular ingredients.”

“You cook?” Jisung looks up, surprised; his hand is already inside the cereal box, grabbing a handful of flakes which makes Minho groan and immediately fetch a bowl for him.

“You don’t?” Minho shoots back, taking the cereal box back from Jisung so he can pour a heaping amount into the bowl, which he in turns gives to Jisung after.

“I’m bad at it,” Jisung admits, mouth half full with him chewing cereal.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Jisung huffs.

“Nothing,” Minho answers, but it’s obviously not nothing, because his shoulders are shaking, and soon he’s unable to keep his laughter in.

“Hyung! What’s funny?!” Jisung demands, even though he’s starting to laugh along.

“Why are you laughing if you don’t know what’s funny?!”

“Because you’re laughing!”

“Oh God, Jisung—” Minho groans, but he can’t stop, his laughter just growing, which in turn causes Jisung’s laughter to get louder as well. It’s almost endless, their mutual hysterics piling on top of each other’s until they’re both wheezing and gasping for air.

“Hyung, stop!” Jisung complains; neither of them really remember or understand why they’re laughing so hard at this point, and Minho is aware that they won’t be able to stop unless one of them does something about it, so he takes it on himself and grabs Jisung’s wrist.

“Come on,” he says, tugging at the younger male.

“What! Where to—?”

“The living room,” Minho answers, his laughter starting up again thanks to the mixture of surprise and confusion on Jisung’s face.

“Why?”

Minho lets go of Jisung’s hand, stopping and turning to face him halfway through the kitchen doorway. “Oh, I didn’t realise you wanted to spend the rest of the night just standing around in the kitchen?”

Jisung blinks at him, probably letting Minho’s words settle. And then he nods, right before he pushes past Minho. “Well, when you put it that way!” He declares, practically throwing himself onto the couch, bowl of cereal cradled in his arms. “Hyung! Let’s watch a movie!”

Minho can only laugh, following suit and shoving Jisung over to make room for himself on the sofa. It’s like the younger took the words right out of his mouth. “Let’s watch a horror movie,” he says, reaching for the remote control so he can turn the TV’s power on. He’s only teasing - Jisung has more than once stressed his inability to watch horror films, and sure enough, he gets the reaction he was expecting.

“No way!” Jisung groans, instantly trying to reach over and snatch the remote control away. “Do you want _nightmares?!_ Let’s watch something easier, like, uh—”

Minho keeps trying to hold the remote away, until he gets tired and finally gives in, handing the control over to Jisung without any more fuss. He keeps chanting the name of a horror movie that he has on his Netflix queue directly into Jisung’s ear, but the younger keeps making random sounds in an attempt to drown Minho out, all while trying to navigate his Netflix account.

“Okay!” Jisung yells over Minho’s rambling. “We’re watching this!” He declares, and when he turns to look at the screen, opening credits for _How To Train Your Dragon_  are beginning to roll.

“Oh—” Whatever sarcastic remark he’d been preparing to make about Jisung’s movie choices get stuck in his throat because to be fair, this is one of _his_ own favorites as well. “I love this one,” he admits, because this is Jisung, and his taste is even more childish than Minho’s. Seungmin, on the other hand, is always teasing him for still watching things like this at his age.

“Right!” Jisung grins, wriggling a little in place until he apparently finds the perfect position. “Me, too.”

By the time Hiccup first meets Toothless, silence has completely taken over the room. Jisung’s bowl of cereal is empty, and his head is slowly sliding off Minho’s shoulder and down his arm. He’s completely dozed off, and surprisingly, Minho isn’t far behind. His eyes are getting watery from having to squint at the screen in order to read the Korean subtitles, so when Hiccup starts cutting the ropes off of Toothless, Minho starts trying to gently wake the younger male.

“Jisung,” he mumbles, trying to nudge his head to wake him slowly. “Jisung—” He sighs, because instead of rousing, Jisung simply adjusts his position, cheek firmly pressed against Minho’s shoulder now while his arms wrap around one of Minho’s.

He chuckles softly and shakes his head; he rubs his eyes and focuses on the screen. He figures he can give the other male a bit of shut eye for now, at least until the movie is over.

Except the next thing Minho knows, sunlight is filtering through the blinds, and he’s slowly stirring into wakefulness. He’s sprawled out on the couch, a blanket haphazardly thrown over him.

“What the—” He rubs his eyes open; he’s considerably confused because as his blurry vision comes to a focus, the first thing he sees is Jisung, sitting cross-legged on his living room floor.

“Oh, hey, hyung!” He greets. “I got us breakfast pastries from Soul Cup but—” He wrinkles his nose and gestures at the spread of food that’s set out on Minho’s coffee table. The television is turned on, playing some movie that Minho thinks he can probably name if he’s more conscious. “Your coffee’s gone cold now. You were sleeping like a baby, so I didn’t bother waking you up.”

 _Sleeping like a baby._ These words confuse Minho even more. He doesn’t remember falling asleep at all.

“What time is it?”

“Uh—” Jisung picks his phone up and holds it up for Minho to look at.

It says 10:03 AM, and he doesn’t think it can be right. That would mean that Minho actually managed to get at least eight hours of undisturbed sleep, something he hasn’t had in at least a year.

“You sure that’s right?” He asks, slowly sitting up and reaching for his own phone. 10:04 AM, his phone screen says. It feels weird, he thinks, except it doesn’t because he actually feels well rested for once.

“You okay, hyung?” Jisung asks, looking worried.

Minho nods slowly. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “You stayed here all night?”

“Um—” Jisung laughs sheepishly. “Yeah— sorry I fell asleep. You could’ve woken me up, you know.”

“I—” Minho chuckles and reaches over, ruffling Jisung’s already messy hair. “I guess I fell asleep too.”

  
  


 

— >> —

  
  


 

It’s 10 in the evening, and Minho had just left drinks with Seungmin and Woojin and Hyunjin. He’d told them that he was tired, and he had made it sound like he was actually going to attempt some shut eye as soon as he gets home - it was the only way he could get Seungmin to let him go freely.

Instead, he’s standing in front of a ratty old apartment, about to knock. He knows that it’s Jisung’s night off at the cafe, but what he doesn’t know is why he’s here, in front of Jisung’s door, and he’s been contemplating this thought for at least the last five minutes.

He takes a deep breath and puts his hand down, before curling it into a fist once more. Before he can even tap his knuckles against the door, however, it swings open and he’s suddenly face to face with a dwarf.

Or— Jisung’s roommate whose name escapes Minho at the moment.

“Oh, it’s you,” the dwarf actually _grunts_ at him, and— _Seo Changbin._ Minho finally recalls what he’s called. “Jisung’s—” He coughs as if catching himself before saying the first thing he thought of. Minho arches an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing here?”

Minho straightens up to his full height before he answers. “Jisung…? Is he here?”

“Why?” Changbin looks at him suspiciously, and briefly, Minho considers being difficult.

“I—” But he doesn’t even need to _consider_ being difficult, because he’s quickly reminded that even he has no idea _why_ he’s there. “Uh—”

Changbin sighs and shakes his head, before stepping aside, a gesture that surprises Minho. Quite frankly, he’d expected to be given a harder time, for some reason.

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles as he awkwardly walks in.

“His room is the door right by the kitchen,” Changbin explains while Minho carefully toes his shoes off by the entrance way; it dawns on him that Changbin was actually on his way out when he’d answered the door.

“Thanks,” Minho says, nodding in acknowledgment. And then he stands there, wary and without his usual air of confidence. He’s not sure if he should wait for Changbin to go, or if he should just go and knock on Jisung’s bedroom door already.

“Hey—” Changbin starts suddenly, looking a bit cautious himself as he takes a step towards Minho.

“Hyung!” Before a proper exchange of words can be had between Minho and Changbin, Jisung’s door springs open and he practically jumps out, as if in a hurry. “Binnie-hyung—! Can you buy me a—” He calls, only to stop short when he realises that they have company. “Minho… hyung.”

“Hi.” Minho lifts a hand to wave lightly.

“Don't think they have Minho-hyungs at the convenience store,” Changbin retorts jokingly, but neither Minho nor Jisung laugh at or pay attention to his words.

“You’re here,” Jisung says, stating the very obvious. He’s staring, and at first there’s a hint of surprised excitement in his eyes, but that’s quickly overshadowed by nervous confusion.

“Yeah, no, I’m actually just a hologram,” Minho snarks, unable to help himself.

Behind him, he hears Changbin suppressing a snort.

“Why are you here?” Jisung asks.

“Uh—” He glances at Changbin, and then back at Jisung. He isn’t actually sure what he _is_ doing there, but he isn’t about to try and figure out with Changbin right there.

“Yeah, okay.” At least Changbin seems to be able to take a hint; he nods at Jisung. “I’m off to the convenience store now— like I was, originally, but maybe I’ll take my time.”

“Yeah, uh, hyung, can you get some cheese sticks. Been craving,” Jisung tells him.

“Sure, but you’re gonna owe me,” Changbin answers. And then, he takes another small step towards Minho, lowering his voice to make sure that it’s only Minho who hears most of what he says next, “Hey— don’t be a dick to Jisung, okay?”

And then he’s stepping away, and walking out of the door, all cool and casual when he closes it after him.

 _And there it is,_ Minho thinks. A warning that’s well deserved.

  
  
  


 

_tbc._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] There's only one chapter left after this + an epilogue, both of which I'll likely post together this weekend once I'm done editing. This fic has been a ride, but I hope all of you who are still reading up to here have been enjoying yourselves. All your thoughts are always welcome, because as usual I have a lot of unwritten headcanon for this fic, and I wonder if some of it has shone through the text anyway, haha. 
> 
> [ ☆ ] My [CC](http://curiouscat.me/yiminho) because I love answering questions.


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] Here it is, the last chapter (not counting the shorter epilogue that comes after it). Thanks to everyone who's been reading this as I've been posting it - I hope the story has a satisfying ending. I wrote it as a romantic comedy, so even though there was a bit of conflict in a few chapters, get ready for some sap, lol. 
> 
> [ ☆ ] Like I said at the beginning, thank you to M & R, for being my focus group of two, for listening to me rant about this, and for reading ahead and validating me whenever I post snippets that I'm unsure of!! (All the Seungjin crumbs are for the two of you, lol ♥)

  
  
  
  
  


Jisung doesn’t get Minho.

This is what he realises after he wakes up in the morning, expecting to find Minho beside him on his bed, only to get a hastily written note stuck on his door instead. 

_ ‘Slept well. Went ahead. Have a good day. - LMH.,’ _ is all it says.  

It’s frustrating, to say the least, because the main thing that Jisung enjoyed so much about Minho was how well they got on. It was uncanny how well they matched, how easy Jisung used to be able to read him. Or so Jisung thought, because these days Minho seems as complicated as a thousand-piece puzzle.

It’s not even like  _ anything _ really happened the night before, despite Changbin’s pointed remarks that morning. (“He was in quite a hurry this morning,” Changbin had told him, sporting a playful smirk that clearly meant to imply something. “That eager to get away from you, huh?” He was only teasing, but Jisung was too confused, and not in the best mood so he’d only answered by flipping the bird at his roommate.)

He’s still in his head, thinking about Minho, about that morning, about the night before, hardly paying attention to his surroundings - which he really should, because he’s supposed to be handing out flyers announcing the opening of a new dog cafe somewhere in Hongdae. It’s another easy money gig he’s picked up recently, and every customer who comes to the cafe that week with one of his marked flyers got him a little cash bonus. He’s usually good at this - actually, he’s usually  _ great _ at this. With a smile and a confident pitch, he usually has people heading straight to the cafe right after talking to them.

Today, though, he’s too distracted. He’s just mindlessly giving away the flyers, and as a result, more than half of them only make it as far as the trash bin at the corner of the street.

“Han Jisung, right?”

When someone says his name suddenly, he’s so surprised that he almost jumps out of his shoes.

“What—” He looks up, and is met with the face of someone familiar. “Seungmin-ssi,” he greets, with a small bow.

“Oh, good—” Seungmin smiles at him. “I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to be rude, though, and not greet you.”

Jisung has only really met Seungmin twice - once when he was in a ridiculous bunny costume for another low-paying part time job, and another when he had worked that waitering job for Chan at a wedding. Personally, he didn’t think he made such a great impression either times, but right now, Seungmin was smiling at him in such a warm and friendly manner so perhaps he was mistaken.

“Ah, yeah!” He grins widely, suddenly remembering that he’s in the middle of a job. “You should drop by here soon, Seungmin-ssi,” he says, shoving one flyer into Seungmin’s hands. “They have opening week discount fees! Just make sure you show them this flyer.” Seungmin glances at the information detailed in the sheet of paper, while Jisung continues to ramble. “Are you a dog person, Seungmin-ssi? You kinda look like a dog person - you also look like you have puppylike features, have people ever told you that?”

Seungmin then looks up and winces at Jisung, causing the latter to break out into a sheepish smile. “I’m not really… a dog person,” Seungmin admits with a tight-lipped smile, and then he looks down at the flyer once more, and his smile slowly turns into a more genuine one. “But, Hyunjin might be interested in this so… we’ll see.” 

“That’s your boyfriend, right?” Jisung clarifies, even though he’s heard enough stories from Minho to know this for sure. “It’ll be fun! The dogs are really cute.”

“Alright,” Seungmin agrees, folding the piece of paper before slipping it inside his bag. “Maybe we will.”

“Awesome!” Jisung whoops. “Please don’t forget to show the flyer!”

“Do you… get paid or something if we do that?” Seungmin gives him a weird look.

“Well, actually—” Jisung laughs, not even ashamed to admit this.

“Oh. Okay, I’ll remember then,” Seungmin says with a reassuring nod. He pauses, as if contemplating his next words, while Jisung continues to give a couple of passers-by some flyers. “Um, Jisung-ssi—?” Seungmin starts again, catching his full attention once more.

“Yeah?”

“Minho-hyung came to see you last night, didn’t he?”

Jisung’s eyes widen in surprise; he doesn’t know why he didn’t expect that when he probably should have. Seungmin is Minho’s best friend after all. His shoulders sag at the reminder of Minho, and how confusing he is, but he does manage to nod in response to the inquiry.

“Right,” Seungmin chuckles; there’s a small smile that’s now gracing his lips, one that looks strangely satisfied, and Jisung doesn’t get it either. “That loser insisted he was going home to sleep,” he says, rolling his eyes despite the fondness in his tone. “But I knew better. It’s nice he has you to go to, though. But, well, anyway— I’ll see you around, Jisung-ssi.”

Jisung finds himself nodding, Seungmin’s words distracting him from giving the latter a proper farewell. And then it all clicks in his head, except - he just gets more confused.

“Seungmin-ssi!” He calls out, quickly jogging over to catch up with the other. “Are you free right now?”

  
  
  
  


 

The two of them find themselves seated across each other at a Starbucks just across the street from the corner where Jisung had been handing out flyers. They’d each ordered their drinks of choice, and now it seemed as if both of them were just waiting on the other to start conversation.

“Well?” Seungmin, seemingly done with the awkward silence, gives Jisung an expectant look.

“Well what?” 

“You asked to have coffee with me, Jisung-ssi. I assume that means you have something to say?” Seungmin sounds impatient, a little less friendly than he’d been at the sidewalk earlier. A lesser person would have probably been more intimidated, but his attitude only serves to challenge Jisung who finally shakes off all his nerves.

“I don’t understand Minho-hyung,” he says out loud; Seungmin stares at him for a few seconds, before bursting into laughter. “What!” Jisung huffs. “Sometimes he’s so easy to read, but then—” He sighs heavily.

“That’s just Minho-hyung. There’s— there’s nothing to understand. He is what he is.”

Jisung frowns. “I don’t understand what I am to him.”

“Oh.  _ Oh.” _ Seungmin nods slowly, looking like he’s reconsidering his answer now that Jisung’s statement has more context. “Well— what do you think— what  _ are _ the two of you?”

“I don’t know.” Jisung groans, frustrated that Seungmin is pretty much just asking him what he just confessed to being confused about. “What does he tell  _ you? _ ”

“Not much,” Seungmin shrugs.

“Aren’t you his best friend?” Jisung counters, refusing to believe that Seungmin doesn’t know anything. “He tells me all about  _ you,” _ he continues; for some reason, through this logic, he assumes that Minho tells Seungmin just as much about him.

Seungmin stares long and hard at Jisung, lips pursed, while his fingers impatiently tap the side of his coffee mug. Jisung doesn’t know what to make of the sudden silence, and he repeatedly shifts around in his seat. And then finally, Seungmin sighs, and this time it’s Jisung who fixes his gaze on the other male.

“Okay,” Seungmin begins. “Here it is— here is what I know about you. I know how you take your coffee,” he says, hand gesturing towards Jisung’s ice blended drink, topped with whipped cream and extra laden with chocolate syrup - Seungmin had ordered for both of them earlier, without even needing to ask him what he wanted. “And I know what kind of movies you like. I know how bad you are at handling a basketball— I even know what songs you like to sing at noraebang. You know why? Because these are the kinds of things Minho tells me— and it’s not because he  _ means _ to tell me, but because he  _ always  _ mentions you,  _ always _ tells stories about you without even realising it.”

Jisung blinks, slowly parsing the information Seungmin has given him, carefully trying to process what it all means.

“Minho-hyung isn’t the type to start a heartfelt conversation on purpose,” Seungmin continues. “But he’s one of the most transparent people I know. The fact that he could never shut up about you— what do you think that says about what you are to him?”

Jisung looks down at his drink; does he dare assume that means what he wants it to mean? He’s never this unsure about anything - the only other thing that has made him hesitate this much, that has eaten away at his built-up confidence like this has been his art, and that’s only because it means so much to him. 

Seungmin sighs. “You know, Minho-hyung, he hides a lot of things to himself,” he murmurs, his tone softer now, sadder, even. “He’s so bad at expressing emotions with words, but I’ve known him for almost all my life, so I notice everything— I know he’s been having a hard time ever since Hyunjin and I made things official. I think he thinks he’s losing me, or whatever—” At this he rolls his eyes like that’s the most ridiculous notion ever, but when he continues, he sounds even more woeful. “He isn’t, obviously, but hyung is the type to think what he thinks, and he  _ really _ isn’t the type to tell anyone when he’s sad— especially me, because he wouldn’t want me to be sad for him. I think he deserves someone who can make him happy— I wouldn’t tell him this myself, because he’s just going to accuse me of wanting everyone else to be in love, just because  _ I _ am. That’s how he is, you know? Call  him out, and he quickly shoots you down, especially when he knows you’re right. But— I just really want my best friend to be happy, is that so wrong?” He pauses, and looks at Jisung as if he’s actually expecting an answer, so Jisung nods. That seems to be enough for Seungmin, who keeps on going, “I also want him to know— to  _ feel _ that I’m not the only person he can count on. And, well— when he talks about you, he’s always happy, and his voice softens and he just sounds… really  _ fond _ , so even though I don’t really know you, I’d have to say, you must be a dumbass if you don’t realise that Minho-hyung is hopelessly into you.”

  
  
  


 

— << —

  
  
  


 

“So, uh, what are you doing here, hyung?” Jisung tries to sound bright and cheerful when he leads Minho into his room, but the truth is that his heart is pounding doubly fast, beating loud and hard against his rib cage, as if it’s threatening to explode any second now. He doesn’t understand why, and with Minho around, it’s hard to to give himself enough pause to figure it out. So he doesn’t.

“What, you’re the only one allowed to see where I live?” Minho asks, lips curved into a pretty smirk. He stands by the entrance even after Jisung closes the door behind him, his eyes taking in everything about Jisung’s small room.

“Yeah, it’s a mess,” he admits before the older male can even make a comment about it. “It’s how I like it.”

Minho laughs, finally walking further in while carefully shrugging his jacket off and simply draping it over Jisung’s study chair. 

“These are yours, yeah?” He asks, gesturing at several canvas board paintings leaning against a corner.

“Shit!” Jisung panics, and almost trips as he tries to get in between Minho and the paintings. “Hyung! I told you! Not until after I get accepted into art school!” He quickly starts turning the boards around; he doesn’t know why he’s so nervous about showing them to Minho.

“Come on, Jisung! I’m here now— let me see, please?”

He sighs and slowly steps away. “Fine,” he grumbles. “You’re not allowed to laugh at them though, okay?”

Minho chuckles, but then he nods and crosses his hand over his heart. Jisung stomps over to his bed and parks himself on the edge, teeth nervously digging into his bottom lip as he watches Minho turn the paintings back around.

“These are… an awful lot of cat paintings,” Minho observes out loud. Jisung shrugs in response, but for some reason, he feels heat creeping up his cheeks.

“Yeah— you know how I’ve been visiting the cat shelter a lot lately?”

“With Felix,” Minho appends, in a tone that makes Jisung feel weird.

“Uh, yeah,” he confirms anyway. “That’s part of why. Cats are… a fascinating subject.”

“Right—” Minho nods, but his eyes are still trained on Jisung’s work. He’s looking at them in a way that makes Jisung feel weak, because it’s as if he’s really taking them in, studying them in a way that makes Jisung feel naked and scrutinized even though it’s not even him that Minho is staring at. “I’m no art connoisseur, but I think these are beautiful, Jisungie,” he whispers, almost breathless in a way that makes Jisung hope that he’s awed.

“Thank you, hyung,” he mumbles.

“Will you let me buy one?” Minho asks, to which Jisung’s head snaps back up in attention.

“No,” he answers quickly. “I told you hyung— no more of that money talk with us, okay?”

“Oh?” Minho tilts his head. “I know we said I’m not paying for your company anymore, but— this is your art, don’t you want to make a living out of it? I know  _ I _ want a Han Jisung Original.”

“Then I’ll give you one,” Jisung declares. “We can pretend all the money I have in my bank account right now that came from you, was advanced payment, and we can  _ finally _ call it even.”

Minho laughs, and Jisung finds himself grinning widely because he really does enjoy the sound of Minho’s laughter. “Okay, it’s a deal,” Minho tells him, and Jisung stands up so he can make a show of shaking his hand.

And then he hears the faint sound of the front door opening and closing outside, and they both realise that Changbin has returned.

“Hyung— you want some cheese sticks?” Jisung finds himself asking Minho. “We can, uh--watch a movie? Changbin-hyung usually has dibs on the TV this time of the night since I tend to not be here, but—” He motions towards his laptop. “It’s a small screen but, we can—”

“Jisung—” Minho interrupts with a laugh. “Yeah, sure, we can watch a movie on your laptop, but this time  _ I’m _ picking.”

He huffs; he should probably be worried that Minho would choose a scary movie just to mess with him, but somehow, he actually feels secure enough about their overlapping tastes in films. “Okay!” He agrees. “I’ll get us some snacks— I think we have some microwavable popcorn too.”

“Alright,” Minho nods, walking over to take a seat on Jisung’s bed. “I’ll wait here?”

“Yeah, hyung!” Jisung grins. “Make yourself at home!”

Changbin looks like he has a lot of questions he wants to ask Jisung when he steps out of his room, but Jisung simply sticks his tongue out at the older male before claiming his cheese sticks, and bouncing off towards the kitchen so he can look for popcorn.

“I take it he’s still here? In your room?” Changbin asks, following Jisung to the kitchen.

He just hums in response, wordlessly shoving a bag of popcorn into the microwave oven.

“I guess I’m right, considering you now have a skip to your step, instead of wallowing in very uncharacteristic self pity like you have been the last few nights,” Changbin observes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hyung,” Jisung tells him, now checking the fridge for drinks. 

He eventually ends up balancing two small bottles of yogurt drinks, and a bowl of popcorn in his arms, except when he finds his way back to his room, he finds Minho curled up on his bed, already snoring lightly.

“Hyung—?” He calls out softly, to no response. 

He sets the food and beverages down on his desk, and then he makes his way to the bed. “Hyung,” he repeats, shaking Minho’s arm very gently. The older male stirs, but even as he turns and shifts to his back, his eyes remain closed, and his breathing remains even. 

He sighs and gives up because in that moment Minho looks so peaceful and content. And breathtakingly  _ beautiful, _ but Jisung by now has accepted this as a simple fact of life.

“Good night, hyung,” he whispers, smiling to himself as he spreads a blanket over the older’s sleeping figure.

  
  
  


 

— >> —

  
  
  


 

Jisung still remembers the first time he’d seen Minho. It was almost midnight, and he’d just casually strolled into the cafe, beautiful even in a simple hooded tee and gray joggers. All three of them - him, Felix, and Jeongin - had turned to watch as Minho looked around, only to scramble and casually act like they were working all along as soon as he headed to the counter.

Felix had been the one to take his order, but even as he pretended to arrange the pastries behind the counter, Jisung had kept sneaking glances at Minho anyway. He was sporting a small smile, and Jisung remembers it so clearly, mostly because he’d noted to himself that the smile didn’t appear to reach his tired eyes.

And then Minho became a regular customer, and in turn, the regular topic of most of Jisung’s conversations with Felix and Jeongin. 

“Okay, 5000 KRW each, entire pot goes to whoever has enough courage to go up to him and say ‘I love you.’” The idea had been Jeongin’s, but he had been looking squarely straight at Jisung when he said it. 

“Wait, why?” Felix had asked, and Jeongin had shrugged, and answered, “I’m bored.”

“If I don’t do it?” Jisung had asked.

“Pot goes to me,” Jeongin said, simple and declarative.

“Wait, why?” Felix repeated, while Jisung gawked at Jeongin.

“Because it was  _ my _ idea,” Jeongin said, and Jisung would have opposed more, but he didn’t because he was feeling confident enough that he’d be able to do it -  _ easy money _ , he had thought to himself.

And so he did, and somehow that had set off a chain of events that led him to where he is now, standing outside of Minho’s apartment at seven in the evening, waiting for him to answer the door.

“Jisung?” Minho looks confused when he opens the door, and he finds Jisung standing there with a tense smile. “What are you doing here? How did you know I’d be home—?”

“What— you’re the only one allowed to show up unannounced?” Jisung retorts, smiling wider in an attempt to conceal his nerves. “And— Seungmin-ssi told me you didn’t have anywhere else to be at tonight, so—” He shrugs, and waits for Minho to let him in.

“Seungmin?” Now it’s Minho’s turn to look confused. “Wait, so— why are you here? Don’t you work tonight?” He asks again, and Jisung boldly walks in as soon as the older steps aside to make room for him to pass, but even then, he’s unsure how to explain his presence.

“Um.” His tongue feels heavy, and words are stuck in his throat. “My shift doesn’t start until later— hyung.” He swallows thickly. “Can I have some water?”

Minho is still giving him a strange, questioning look, but he doesn’t question the request. He motions for Jisung to follow, and so he does, right to the kitchen where Minho pours him a glass of water.

He takes it once it’s offered, only to take his time in gulping it down.

“Well?” Minho asks, as soon as the glass is empty.

“Well—” Jisung flashes a big grin, and makes a show of putting the glass down on the counter. The drink did very little in helping quell his nervousness, but he still manages to flash a big smile as he finally gathers enough courage. “Hyung—  _ what are we?” _

There’s a pause where Minho actually appears to be startled, but it’s so quick that Jisung almost thinks he imagines it, especially when a smirk curves on his lips, and he says, “What are we? Koreans?”

“Hyung—” The words slides off his tongue sounding like a frustrated growl. He moves closer, and Minho steps back, leaning against the kitchen counter in the process.

“Jisung?”

“Hyung,” Jisung repeats, and this time it sounds more like an exasperated sigh. He reminds himself of Seungmin’s words from earlier that day -  _ tell him how you feel, _ Seungmin had advised.  _ He’ll try to shoot you down— he’ll try to make a joke out of it, but don’t let him. _ It would be funny, because Seungmin’s predictions are turning out to be a hundred percent accurate, yet it’s not because even though he saw this coming, Jisung is still equal parts frustrated and confused. “Hyung, I like you,” he says, trying his very best to sound clear, even, and confident. “I like you a lot, and most days, I think you feel the same.”

“Most days?” Minho parrots, much to Jisung’s chagrin.

“And this—” Jisung frowns and shakes his head. The confidence he’d forced himself to build on the fly just a minute ago is already starting to corrode thanks to Minho’s patented nonchalance. “This is why it’s not everyday,” he mumbles, averting his gaze and once again stepping back.

“Jisung—” Minho’s tone softens, but then he cuts himself off and all Jisung gets is more silence.

_ It’s on you, _ he remembers Seungmin telling him.  _ You have to make him stop acting an idiot. _

(“Sounds like a lot of work,” Jisung had countered. 

“It’s on you to decide if he’s worth it,” was Seungmin’s simple answer.)

“Hyung— do you, or do you not like me?” Jisung tries again, this time lifting his chin so he can look Minho directly in the eyes.

“Whoa—” Something that sounds an awful lot like forced laughter trickles out of Minho’s throat. “Why are you being so aggressive?”

“Hyung!” Jisung snarls.  _ “Please, _ just be honest— and if I’m wrong, then— then—” He sighs, unable to keep up his assertive front. “Then I’ll leave it be,” he finishes with a dejected mumble.

And then Minho just stares at him without saying anything. There’s something about his eyes that’s suddenly scary to Jisung, and soon he’s looking away once more. The longer Minho keeps silent, the deeper Jisung’s confidence drops.  _ Maybe, _ he thinks,  _ this was a terrible idea. _ Maybe he kept Minho amused at most - surely, all the times he’s made Minho laugh were at least  _ real _ . But realistically speaking, none of that is actual proof that Minho likes him as much as  _ he _ likes Minho - or that Minho likes him the same way that  _ he _ likes Minho.

“Jisung—” And then Minho finally speaks again. His voice is soft, almost  _ nervous _ . Jisung’s never heard him like this before, and so he turns to face him again. “Jisung,” Minho repeats, this time sound firmer. “I— I’m falling in love with you.” And then Minho’s eyes widen, as if his own words surprised even him, as if these are not the words he’d meant to say, but they’re what left his lips anyway.

“Hyung—?” Maybe Jisung should be confused, maybe he should be more on guard - but it’s the complete opposite. His shoulders relax, because just like that, a weight has been lifted off them. He feels relieved, and his smile slowly grows from ear to ear. “Was that so hard, hyung?” He asks, once again shuffling closer to the older male.

“Yes?” Minho counters, sounding uncertain despite the hearty chuckle that leaves his throat. “Fuck you, Jisung—  _ of course _ it was hard!” He sounds frustrated, but not malicious, and it makes Jisung laugh. “Companionship… friendship— those are different things. I believe in those things, but love? Romantic love? Being in love? What is that—? It’s not something I ever really wished for, and then  _ you _ came around, with your stupid I love you, and—” He groans, and stops as if realising that he’s uncharacteristically started to ramble. “Look what you’re making me do. Your constant word vomit has rubbed off on me. So much of you has rubbed off on me, and it’s just ridiculous, because how could it be so easy and natural to be with someone? But it is— it’s so easy being around you, and I— this is dumb.” He’s frowning, but his cheeks are colored an adorable shade of red.

“Hyung,” Jisung starts, but before he can continue, he starts laughing. He thinks this is the first time he’s really seen Minho  _ this _ unguarded and it makes him  _ gleeful. _ “Yeah, hyung, I agree,” he says, making another step towards Minho; this time, he reaches for the elder’s hands and weaves their fingers together. “It’s dumb, and it's hard, but I— I’m falling in love with you, too.”

His breath hitches because Minho looks up at his confession, and their eyes meet. 

“I’m falling for you, too,” he mumbles again, and then suddenly they’re closing the distance between them.

Minho’s lips are on his, and they’re not just soft, but perfectly shaped - a perfect fit for Jisung’s own. This is far from the first time they’re doing this, but it’s different somehow. Their hands let go of each other’s, but only so that their arms can make their way around each other instead. 

Jisung is pulled closer, and closer,  _ and closer _ until he’s pressed against Minho completely, and he’s running out of air, and Minho probably is, too, but he doesn’t want to pull away, at least not any time soon, because the moment feels too good, too perfect, too  _ damn right - _ just like everything else when it comes to him and Minho.

  
  
  
  


 

>>


	9. Epilogue

  
  
  
  
  


“Jisung, my hand is losing circulation from how tightly you’re holding it,” Minho whispers to his boyfriend. The two of them are seated together in the audience, watching as Jisung’s older cousin, Younghyun, exchanges vows with his college sweetheart, Ayeon.

(“They actually met in high school,” Jisung had told Minho just the night before, practically gushing as he recounts his cousin’s love life in detail. “But it wasn’t until college that they fell in love— isn’t that cute?”

“Okay,” Minho had responded, not particularly interested in the story itself, but amused by Jisung’s excitement anyway.)

“Oh, sorry,” Jisung mumbles, slackening his grip on Minho’s hand. 

Despite the fact that he’d been complaining about it just seconds ago, it feels like a loss to Minho, who unconsciously tightens  _ his _ hold around Jisung’s hand almost automatically.

“Hyung—” Jisung snorts softly. “Now  _ my _ hand is losing blood circulation.”

“Well,” Minho shrugs, a teasing smirk playing on his lips as he squeezes even harder, this time on purpose. “Deal with it.”

“Minho-hyung,” Jisung whines, and finally, Minho loosens his hold. Their hands remain linked anyway, fingers weaved together in an easy manner. Minho will never say it loud, but their hands feel like they fit perfectly together.

“I’m bored,” he whispers. The ceremony is almost over though, at least, and he knows it. “This wedding is so…  _ basic,” _ he observes quietly.

“Sssh,” Jisung tuts at him. “Not everyone can afford the fancy weddings you and Seungmin plan.”

Minho bites down his lip - an attempt to hold back the laughter bubbling up from his throat because Jisung is, of course, right.

“Anyway, they don’t really care,” Jisung continues. “They got a big, fat, discount from the wedding hall, which they’re happy about, but mostly— well, Younghyun-hyung says what matters is what comes after anyway. You know. The marriage part.”

“That’s stupidly sappy,” Minho remarks.

“It is, but isn’t he right?” Jisung says, grinning happily. Like he truly believes in what he’s saying.

Minho hates that that same smile is making  _ him _ believe the stupid words that come with it. “Yeah, I guess,” he mumbles.

“Hyung—” Jisung whispers, this time directly into Minho’s ear as he lazily rests his chin on Minho’s shoulder.

“Hmm? Shouldn’t you be paying attention to their vows right now?” Minho says, trying to distract Jisung because his breath is ticklish against his ear, and because his sudden proximity is making Minho want to turn and just  _ make out _ him right there. Which he supposes would be a tad inappropriate, so he holds back.

“You know, gay marriage is legal in London,” Jisung says, all casual and matter-of-fact.

Except, context: Jisung has recently been accepted,  _ finally, _ to his art school of choice in the UK, and he’s in the middle of preparing everything he needs to fly there for the following school year. 

It’s been eating at Minho, quite frankly,  the idea that they’d be separating - but as usual, he’s been trying not to address it.

He ends up coughing in surprise at Jisung’s words, earning a few choice stares from other guests. “Sorry,” he mumbles to everyone, before whispering to his boyfriend. “What, is that you trying to propose to me?” He tries to sound playful and joking, wanting to act unaffected even though his little coughing stint just proved otherwise. 

Jisung, frustratingly, simply flashes an innocent smile. “No, that’s just me pointing out that gay marriage is legal in London.”

Minho groans, before turning his head. “Shut up,” he mumbles, before giving Jisung a quick kiss, right on the lips. It earns them a few more stares, but he decides that he really doesn’t care.

Lucky for them, the ceremony in front ends right then, so all the other guests turn to focus on the newlywed couple. Everyone stands and claps and cheers, and Minho sneakily gives Jisung one more peck before both of them follow suit.

It hasn’t been that long, just a few months ever since they’d sat down and laid their feelings out for one another. (“A few months ever since you accosted me at my home, and demanded that I tell you I like you,” is how Minho usually puts it in front of friends, but only because the way Jisung pouts in response is adorable.) Not much has changed, really, except they spend a lot more time with each other in the daylight now that Minho’s sleeping better. 

“Hey, Jisung,” Minho says softly, when they sit down again. The wedding hall staff are announcing the details of the reception, but Minho would rather pay attention to his boyfriend in that moment. “I— I have a lot of things going on here, with my business and all of that, but— none of it—” He grimaces, because  _ why is this so hard? _ But then he catches a glimpse of Jisung’s smile, so open and eager and  _ genuine,  _ and it pushes him to be more honest. “None of it is as important as you,” he admits quietly. “Will you have me with you? In London?”

“Hyung—” Jisung’s eyes grow wide. “What about Seungmin? Your business?”

“We’ve talked about it, actually,” Minho says. “After his commitment ceremony with Hyunjin later this year, he says they want to travel together. So we kind of agreed that we both want to do other things for a while, and— and , well, what I want to do is to be with you.”

“Hyung.  _ Hyung,” _ Jisung gasps, and the excitement in his tone makes Minho’s heart flutter in a very silly way. “Is  _ this _ you trying to propose?” He asks, snickering as he teasingly throws Minho’s words back at him.

“You wish,” Minho snorts. “But, no. It’s just me, pointing out that I want to be with you. You know— If you’ll have me.”

“And this is how it goes, the great Lee Minho, finally being honest with what he wants,” Jisung says, still teasing, now full-on laughing. “But you already know, hyung. Of course I’ll have you. I’ll always have you.”

  
  
  


 

_ fin. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ☆ ] I never really thought I'd be up for writing a multi-chaptered fic, because I never thought I'd ever fully commit, lmao. I mean, I guess eight chapters isn't really a lot, but I'm easily distracted tbh. So yeah, this was a trip, and it took a lot out of me, so all the comments have meant especially a lot this time a round. Thanks to all of you readers ♥
> 
> [ ☆ ] Idk if I made it obvious enough, but this was a story about 2min's friendship as much as it was about Minsung's romance. I kind of really sold myself on platonic 2min writing this, lol, and I hope I sold a lot of you on it, too. 
> 
> [ ☆ ] As usual, feedback is greatly appreciated. Hit me up on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/hanmings) or [CC](http://curiouscat.me/yiminho) any time. (:
> 
> [ ☆ ] Also!! Now that you've reached the end -- [geborgenheit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geborgenheit) has written a very lovely sequel/spinoff featuring domestic Seungjin: [in the comfort of blankets and sheets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17930597). It's so cute and it deserves all your kudos and feedback ;;;;;

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [in the comfort of blankets and sheets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17930597) by [geborgenheit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geborgenheit/pseuds/geborgenheit)




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